


Forget Me Not

by PeakyFookinBlinders (Sherlocked729)



Series: Forget Me Not [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accident, Confusion about Sexual Orientation, Consensual Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Drinking, Explicit Language, Fluff, Guys Protecting Guys, Hurt/Comfort, Intimate touching, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Maylor everywhere, Memory Loss, Not so much non-con though, Nothing Too Traumatic, Period-Typical Homophobia, Person vs Car accident, Recreational Drug Use, Safe Flashbacks, Seizures, Smoking, Somewhat graphic depictions of sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Surprise Kissing, Verbal & Physical Fighting, Violence Against A Gay Character, and a little bit of Reaky, casual touching, gradual burn?, hospital stays, if that makes sense, somewhat slow burn, sorry I'm not sure how to tag that, takes place in 1977
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 68,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocked729/pseuds/PeakyFookinBlinders
Summary: Roger gets into a car accident after a night of drinking and ends up in the hospital to find out he can't even remember his own name. Now he has to live with three strangers and get to know them all over again while also being dependent on them. Meanwhile, Brian is racked with guilt because of what happened because he knows it was his fault that his best friend can't remember anything.Can Roger and Brian somehow help each other through this or will it tear their friendship, and Queen, apart for good?





	1. tabula rasa

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic dealing with amnesia and memory loss so please be nice! I've done some research on car accidents and memory loss but in order for it to fit this story, I tweaked a few things so I'm aware this may not be 100% accurate and if you notice something wrong, then I did it on purpose for the sake of the plot. 
> 
> If you like, comment, kudo and subscribe!

**.     .     .**

Roger Taylor gasped as he woke up abruptly, looking around frantically. His heart was racing uncontrollably in his chest, evident on the heartrate monitor nearby. Tubes snaked in his hand and he felt them hooked in his nose as well, pumping oxygen into him.

_Where was he?_

_A hospital, obviously. But why?_

A splitting headache pounded in his head mercilessly, but it didn’t stop the panic in his chest, still gasping for air.

It was now when a youthful nurse came inside and gently placed a hand on the drummer’s chest, forcing him to lay back again. She gave him a small smile but otherwise her face and her voice were serious and grim.

“You’ve been in a serious car accident. Can you tell me your name, please?”

Roger blinked and scoffed now, the absurdity of the question calming his panic attack. He was about to say something until he realized that he couldn’t remember what his name was. He looked away in thought, willing himself to remember but it wasn’t coming to him and then a dark realization rose in his head.

_He couldn’t remember his own fucking name._

“It’s okay. Your name is Roger Taylor,” she offered helpfully, her voice slightly more cheerful now. “Do you know what year it is?”

As quickly as she had asked the question, it disappeared from his mind. “S-Sorry?”

“The year. Do you know what year it is?”

Roger wet his lips in thought. _Come on, he should know it. It was a simple bloody question!_ He looked back at her and then shook his head, feeling frustrated. “W-What happened to me?”

The nurse searched his face before writing something down on her clipboard. “You don’t remember me telling you earlier when you woke up?”

The blonde shook his head and felt scared. Who was he? Why was he in here? He could feel the panic rising again and ripped out the tubing in his nose and in his hand before he sat upright quickly.

“No, Mr. Taylor! I must insist you lay back down!” She pressed a button on his bed control panel and a few seconds later, two male nurses rushed inside before one of them held Roger’s arm down firmly and the other nurse fixed the tubing again, injecting a syringe into it quickly.

“N-No…” Roger tried to fight against the sedative but it made his limbs feel so heavy that he couldn’t move them. He felt the panic dissipate and then watched as the two male nurses walked out of the room again.

“Try and relax, dear. I’m going to let your friends see you now, all right?”

_Friends?_

The blonde was confused again but nodded, needing to see who she was talking about. She walked out and about five minutes later, three men, varying in size and hair length walked in with scared smiles on their faces before they walked over to the bed and focused their attention on Roger.

“Hey, how’re you feeling, mate?” the youngest male asked kindly.

“We were so worried about you, darling,” another one spoke. “We’re so glad you’re okay.”

The tallest one moved closest to him and searched his face, his own mirroring Roger’s own feelings of fear and uncertainty. “Hey, Rog. How many times have I told you how bad of a driver you are?” It was evident there was teasing in his voice but he felt like it might have been to cover up something less comfortable.

He swallowed hard, blinking and shaking his head. “W-Who are you? I… I’ve never met you before, any of you.”

The three men looked at each other now worriedly before the taller one turned to the other two.

“Give me a couple minutes with him?”

“Of course, darling,” the dark haired one replied assuringly as he gently touched his arm. “Take as long as you need.”

Roger watched as he led the youngest one out of the room, leaving him with the long haired man. He searched his face, trying to remember who this person could be but came up empty again.

“It’s me, it’s Brian. Bri…” he looked at Roger almost desperately before he slowly reached over and moved a lock of Roger’s hair away from his face.

The gesture took him back, not expecting it and flinched away the best he could while under the sedative. He saw Brian retract his hand quickly and looked at him with apology in his eyes.

“H-How… how do I know you?” Roger wasn’t suspicious all that much. There was something about this man that made him want to trust him.

Brian looked almost hurt but mostly shaken up. “We’re… we’re friends, Rog. Close friends. All of us, really. We’re… in a band together. You play drums in it.” His voice was solemn pretending to be cheerful.

The blonde bit his lip but cringed, feeling slight pain in it. It was now when he looked down at himself and saw his injuries. His left arm was in a cast, his body was sore, his ribs hurt, and he had bruises all over his body. That was just what he could see; he dreaded to look in a mirror.

He looked back at Brian, having so many questions and no answers. “W-What happened to me?”

The other man looked at his friend with concern. “You don’t remember anything, at all?” The tone wasn’t judgmental, but just curious, questioning.

Roger shook his head.

“Umm… the two of us went to a bar, like we usually do on Friday nights after a show. Freddie and John stayed home. You and I had a couple drinks and then… I insisted on going home, but you wanted to stay. I stayed at the bar with you and you had a couple more drinks. Then I told you we should leave but you still wanted to stay. We got into a… a huge fight, probably our worst one to date, and I-I stormed out and… I-I left you,” Brian’s eyes knitted tightly together and he looked away, guilt now present in his eyes.

 “You were drunk, and you drove home and got into a car accident. Y-Your car flipped five times, and you were unconscious when the ambulance got to you. They had to do surgery on you. The doctor says you have traumatic brain injury, which… is causing your amnesia.”

Roger didn’t even know where to begin with this. It was all so much to take in and he could feel his headache getting worse, but he knew it had nothing to do with the injury and more with his hangover he most likely had. He swallowed hard, trying to make sense of it all.

Then a dark thought appeared in his head. “W-What happened to the other people in the accident?”

Brian ran a hand through his dark curls and let out a shaky breath. Roger felt tears well in his eyes now, thinking the worse.

“O-oh god I-I killed them, d-didn’t I –"

Brian tensed up and shook his head, leaning forward. “No! No, Roger. No one’s dead. They’re just recovering from their injuries. They had minor lacerations but they’re expected to pull through.”

Roger relaxed slightly, letting out his own shaky breath as he wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall. He looked away, not wanting to cry in front of him. “ _F-Fuck…_ ”

The guitarist looked like he wanted to reach out and put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder but thought better of it. The two men were quiet for several minutes, both of them afraid of talking to a stranger.

“You know me? I mean, pretty well?”

Brian gave a small smile now. “I know you better than anyone, I’d say.”

Roger nodded, taking this in. “Tell me about me?” He asked sheepishly now. It was his turn to sound desperate.

Brian looked at his friend with broken eyes but nodded. “You’re Roger Meddows Taylor. You’re twenty-eight, you were born in Norfolk. You have a sister named Clare. Umm… let’s see, we met about nine years ago in university and we’re members of probably one of the most famous bands right now.”

Roger wanted to ask ‘what band,’ but he figured that was irrelevant. If he couldn’t remember his own name or his friends, then it didn’t matter what band he played in. He just nodded in acknowledgement and tried to rack his brain to see if he could remember any of this information.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely now, eyes filling up with tears once again. “I-I don’t remember anything...”

Brian placed a timid hand on Roger’s arm now, but this time the other man let him. He needed a comforting touch right now. “Hey, you don’t need to be sorry for not being able to remember something. You have plenty of time to make more memories and umm… I talked to the nurse. She says that there’s a chance your memory will come back again, but it might take some time.”

The drummer searched his face, fingering the tape on his skin that held in the tubing on his hand. “How much time?”

Brian shrugged. “She said it could be anywhere from days, weeks, even months. She said it was difficult to tell for sure.”

Roger nodded and looked over at the other man. He hadn’t seen it before until now but he noticed there were dark circles under his eyes and something inside him churned uneasily.

“You look like you’ve been having trouble sleeping,” he observed pointedly.

Brian cocked his head to the side slightly. “Gee, I wonder why that would be, do you think?” Roger looked confused and the guitarist seemed to force himself to have patience and remember who he was talking to. “Yeah, Rog. I’ve been… really worried about you. I thought you weren’t going to make it, we all did. No one told us anything for several hours.” He took another shaky breath.

Roger looked down at his hands before he cleared his throat. “Do I… do that a-a lot? Drive home drunk?” There was fear to his voice.

Brian ran a hand through his hair before shaking his head. “No. I don’t… usually drink and I drive you home when you do. This was… a freak thing for us this time. I never let you drive home drunk but… I was an idiot and angry and…. I don’t know. There’s no excuse for what I did.”

Roger felt a lump in his throat, his stomach doing flips. He fought back the urge to chew on his lips and instead, focused on playing with a loose string on the sheets.

“What were we fighting about? Just how much I wanted to stay there?”

The other man leaned back in the plastic chair by the bed and folded his arms across his chest. “Pretty much,” he said shortly.

Roger had a nagging feeling a lot was being kept from him and he hated it. He furrowed his brows in frustration before sighing. “What else were we fighting about?”

Brian rubbed his eyes and shook his head before giving a weak smile. “Don’t worry about it. Just get better, yeah? We need you back home with us.”

_Home?_

This made him focus his full attention on him now. “We live together? All of us?” His stomach twisted anxiously inside of him.

“Y-Yeah, we do. It’s a small flat about ten minutes from here. It’s our… low-key place.”

Roger nodded, trying to take this information in as well. “Well at least we don’t have too much trouble affording rent, I suppose.”

“We used to,” Brian admitted, a slight smirk appearing on his face now. “We used to barely be able to scrape by when we first started out. It was a miracle our power never got cut off; our rent was never on time.”

Roger let out a weak chuckle, amused by the thought and he was quiet for a long time before he spoke again, now looking down at his hands. “Do you all… like me?” He felt awkward asking it but he wanted to know what he’d be going back to.

Brian looked up at him and searched his face, nodding. “Yeah, mate. We love you, most of the time except when you’re being a total prick.”

Roger smirked and chuckled weakly again but then he stopped as his brain became fuzzy. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the TBI or the sedative. “What’s your name?”

The smirk on the guitarist’s face fell a little bit and Roger saw disappointment in his eyes and felt guilt filling himself up upon seeing it.

“Brian,” he said softly. “Brian May.”

“Right,” Roger nodded, trying to force himself to remember it this time. “S-Sorry,” he added pathetically, feeling embarrassed.

Brian’s face turned softer now and he waved off the apology. “Don’t be. It’s fine, really. It’s what we’re here for, to help you get through this. You don’t need to apologize for not being able to remember.”

The two men sat in an awkward silence for about ten minutes before Brian cleared his throat and stood up. “You’re dozing off. I’m going to let you sleep, but I’m going to talk to the doctor and we’ll come back a bit later, yeah?”

Roger rubbed his eyes, unable to deny that he the sedative was starting to make him fall asleep. He nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you later, I guess.”

The older man gave him a reassuring smile now and nodded before he looked like he was about to touch Roger but then decided against it at the last second before he left the room.

 

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

**  
** When Roger woke up again, the sedative had worn off but he could feel the full force of the pain in his body. He groaned as he tried to roll onto his back and saw two of the three men sitting in chairs near his bed, the youngest one sleeping.

“Hey, you’re up,” Brian greeted with a smile. “How’re you feeling?”

Roger sighed heavily. “Like absolute shite. Don’t suppose there’s any chance I could get something for the pain, is there?”

“Hold on. Be right back,” the older man stood up and walked out towards the hallway, flagging down a nurse before both of them entered back inside the room.

The nurse, holding a syringe similar to the one he had seen earlier pushed it into his IV. “Heard you’re in a bit of pain, Mr. Taylor. This will help with that but it might also make you feel a bit drowsy.”

“Cheers,” Roger thanked her gratefully. After she had left, he relaxed as he felt the pain lessen. He looked from Brian over to the man who was sleeping peacefully. “W-Who’s he again?”

“John, John Deacon, but… you usually call him Deaky. He’s our bassist.”

Roger nodded in acknowledgement. “Deaky…” he whispered to himself, letting the nickname roll over on his tongue as he tasted it in his mouth. He wanted it to feel familiar, to make him remember but it didn’t. “Where’s… the other one? The other one with dark hair?”

“Freddie Mercury,” Brian filled in the blank for him. “He went to get some more coffee. He’ll be around soon.”

Roger nodded again and stretched out his limbs before realizing he had to pee. “Umm… I have to…” he trailed off. “Can you help to the loo?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, of course,” the older man held out his arm for Roger and he swung his legs out before slowly placing them on the cold floor. All at once he felt the blood rushing down to his feet, giving him pins and needles. He waited until it passed and then stood up shakily, grabbing the IV to take with him with the other hand as he pushed himself up.

He used both Brian and the IV stand to walk over to the bathroom. The guitarist didn’t let go of him when he went to pull down his boxer briefs, wrapping an arm around his body to steady him so he wouldn’t fall flat on the floor.

“Can you… umm?” He looked at the man nervously.

Brian chuckled softly before he nodded and turned his head to focus on the ceiling to give his friend some privacy.

Roger quickly did his business and put himself away again before he scuttled over slowly towards the sink to wash his hands. He was taken back when he saw all the healing cuts and bruises on his face, a deep gash on his lip and right above his eye. He swallowed hard, examining himself in the mirror.

Brian looked at him in the mirror. “They looked a lot worse before.”

Roger pulled himself together and nodded, letting him take him back to the bed where he sat down, refusing to lay down again. He glanced over at John again before looking back at Brian. “You guys could’ve gone home to sleep. You didn’t have to stay here. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Brian gave a small smile, raising his eyebrows. “We really don’t have anything else to do right now. We just finished our tour. The most we can do is start writing songs for another album but I think we’re all too wiped from touring. We need a rest. We’d just be worrying at home instead of here.”

The drummer looked at Brian. “How long have I been here for?”

Brian thought for a second. “You had your accident Friday, and today is Sunday, so you’ve been in here for a couple days now.”

“When can I leave?”

Brian thumbed his chin, sitting back down in the chair. “The doctor wants to keep you under observation for a couple more days to make sure you don’t have any seizures or anything but says you’ll be approved to leave in a couple days if you don’t have any.”

“Good,” he took this in but then felt worried. He didn’t even remember the flat. He didn’t remember these people he shared the flat with, and he didn’t know where any of his stuff even was. He was going home blind. He was quiet again for about fifteen minutes, hating this feeling of going home with strangers.

“Umm… w-why didn’t my family come to see me?”

Brian looked at him sadly now. “You… don’t really get along with them these days. You had a falling out with them last year.”

Roger felt his heart sink, but he couldn’t remember them anyway so he didn’t feel too strongly about it. He just nodded. “O-Oh. Okay. How are… how are the other people doing?”

The older man looked confused at first but then things clinked. “Oh, right. They’ve been released. They were released last night.”

Roger felt relief but then another thought crossed his mind, one that put some anxiety and fear into him. “A-Are they going to… umm… press charges against me?”

An uneasy look crossed his ‘friend’s face and Roger couldn’t tell if it was anger or sadness, or both. “When they found out about your condition before, they… they figured it was punishment enough for you so… no, they’re not pressing charges.”

It would’ve been a lie to say he wasn’t partially relieved. He didn’t want to do anything to cause drama for the band he was apparently in by being charged with drunk driving. He was about to ask something else when he saw another man walk inside.

“Oh, excellent. You’re awake, darling! I thought you’d never wake up.”

Roger looked from Brian back to the stranger who now had a cup of coffee in his hand and a sincere smile on his face. He relaxed a little, unsure why he felt warm at the sight of this man he didn’t know.

“Roger, this is Freddie. He’s our singer,” Brian introduced to him.

The singer smiled sadly at Roger. Apparently he had been told about his amnesia because he didn’t ask any questions but instead walked closer to the blonde.

“It’s lovely to meet you, dear… again,” he chuckled. “Ah, I see that John has been good company as well. How long as he been asleep?”

Roger looked to Brian but he didn’t answer so he looked back at Freddie. “I-I don’t know. He’s been asleep since I woke up.” Freddie rolled his eyes but was still smiling. He felt their eyes on him and he squirmed underneath their gaze, unsure what to talk about now.

Thankfully, Brian was the one to speak up. “Right, well… the doctors only gave us this time to check on you. They want you to have some time to yourself to rest, but we’ll come back tomorrow,” he promised, nodding.

“Oh, all right. See you then.”

Freddie gently woke up John who rubbed his eyes before looking apologetically at Roger before he stood up, waving goodbye. The singer gave him a quick hug before he knew what had happened and watched as he walked out with the younger man.

Brian gave him a smile, looking at his startled friend. “Take it easy, Rog. Rest up, yeah?”

Roger nodded and gave him a timid smile back. “Yeah, you guys too.” He waved goodbye to him and then found himself alone again.

He was quickly starting to realize how dependent he was going to be on these men, whether he liked it or not, and that scared him. He didn’t know what kind of person he used to be, only the kind that he was now, and he didn’t like to be dependent on others. How was he even supposed to know if they were telling the truth about him? They could easily lie and he’d never know it, at least not until he remembered again.

Roger took a deep breath before he lay back down again and relaxed. He guessed that he would just need to trust them, but then another question floated into his head:

_How do you trust a stranger or strangers you only just met?_


	2. flashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments! They totally make me happy :)

**.    .     .**

The guys had kept their promise and visited Roger the next day but it was tough going in the way of talking to him and keeping up a conversation. The blonde had questioned them a few times what they had just said or questioned a few minutes ago, and it had gone like that for the whole visit.

Over the next couple days, Roger’s ability to retain information became slightly better but the doctors still wanted to keep him under observation until the end of the week. By the time the week was up, however, the doctors gave Roger permission to finally leave the hospital as long as there would be always be someone around him back at the flat to keep a close eye on him.

Roger was getting his clothes on and noticed his bruises were also fading. His arm was no longer in a cast, but an arm sling that wrapped around his neck. Freddie had been kind enough to bring him clothes from Roger’s closet at the flat since the clothes the drummer had arrived in had to be cut off so he could be worked on.

“Ready, Rog?”

He turned around and saw Brian smiling at him. “Y-Yeah, I guess.” If he was being honest, he was nervous. He didn’t know what to expect.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Roger nodded and let the taller man lead him out of the building only to hear commotion a few feet away from them. He looked out towards the front of the hospital and saw a crowd of people with signs and press.

“Come on, before they see you,” Brian urged gently, guiding Roger to the side of the hospital towards the van. It’d be the vehicle that no one else would expect to see Roger Taylor in. “Over here.”

The drummer looked back over in the parking lot and saw a van waiting for them. The side door opened and he was greeted by the man he had gotten to know as Freddie, who smiled brightly at him.

“Hello, darling. It’s wonderful to see you up and about,” he moved to the passenger seat after taking Roger’s hand and helping him inside the van. “Going our way?”

“Thanks.”

Brian switched places with John who had been in the driver seat and watched as the younger man sat next to him on the bench seat behind the other two band members.

John flashed a polite smile at him. “Feeling better?”

He nodded cautiously, his nervousness increasing with every mile. “Y-Yeah, thanks. I’m still a bit sore, though,” the two men sat in awkward silence before he spoke again. “So… you’ve been in Queen for long?” It was a stupid question and he internally cursed himself for it but he literally couldn’t think of anything else to talk about; as far as Roger was concerned, he had no past with this man, or any of them that he remembered, at least.

John chuckled weakly. “Yes, about seven years now, I believe. Not as long as you, of course but hopefully I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

Roger searched his face and nodded, having gone quiet now when he smelled something.

_Cigarette smoke._

He didn’t know how but his mind made the connection almost instantly and he looked towards the direction where it was coming from; Freddie had a cigarette between his fingers and was smoking it as he talked with Brian.

Roger felt an urge come from deep within, a feeling he hadn’t felt since he had woken up. He cleared his throat before timidly tapping Freddie’s shoulder. “C-Can I have one too?”

Brian looked at him in the rear view mirror before looking over at Freddie who looked confused at first until he glanced back at his friend and saw Roger looking at the cigarette.

“Oh, of course, dear.” He grabbed the package and held it out to Roger who delicately took one. The singer motioned for him to lean in and once he did, he lit the end of it for him.

“Cheers,” he said gratefully before he took a drag and held the smoke in his lungs.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea, Fred?” Brian asked a bit anxiously, looking back at Roger. “He only just got out of hospital.”

“Oh come now, darling. One cigarette won’t do any harm. If anything, I think it’s a good sign that he asked for one in the first place. Perhaps he’s remembering a little bit more.”

His argument seemed to shut Brian up because he didn’t say anything else until he parked the car and got out, going around it to open the side door for the rest of them. He helped John and Roger out before he unlocked the door to the flat.

“Home sweet home,” John sighed gratefully as he entered.

Roger followed next and looked around, walking into the living room before he walked into the kitchen, trying to remember something, _anything_ , but to no avail. He let his hands glide across the countertop before he looked around at the men who were watching him curiously.

“How long have we lived here together?”

Freddie looked at Brian who appeared to have all the answers. “You and I were living together for about two years before we met them and then we all moved in together. Do you want me to show you your room?”

“Oh, right. That’d be nice,” Roger followed Brian down the hall and waited until he opened it before he entered. He looked around at the foreign room but still smelled cigarette smoke and didn’t feel so panicky.

He ran a hand through his hair and saw the guitarist standing there watching him with hesitation in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Brian rubbed the back of his neck. “I… I sort of sleep here too, with you.”

Roger tensed a little and swallowed hard. “Are we…? You and I, are we… together?” He searched Brian’s face.

The other man shook his head, chuckling a bit. “No, we’re not… no. I just mean, we sleep in the same bed because of lack of room, but… if you’d prefer, I can move my things out and sleep on the couch.”

Roger didn’t miss the disappointed look in his eyes and for some reason, it made his chest hurt. He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind sharing. Anyway, it’s your flat, isn’t it?” Roger asked rhetorically. “You shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch.”

Brian smiled at him now. “Thanks, mate.” The guitarist watched Roger with almost sad eyes, as if he were wishing he could have his best friend back again instead of this stranger that stood before him. “Well, it’s still a bit early. What did you want to do?”

“Umm…” Roger wet his lips nervously. “Can I take a shower?”

Brian chuckled again, smiling brightly. “Of course you can, Rog. This is your place too. I’m going to go start on dinner but feel free to take your time.” He walked out of the room and headed for the kitchen, turning to Freddie.

“Hey, I’m about to get dinner going. Would you mind showing Roger where the towels and everything are?”

The words felt so odd to say and also forced a melancholy feeling through his stomach and into his chest. He remembered when Roger had hid all the towels on them one time when Freddie decided he wanted to hear the drummer’s voice go up another octave by flushing the toilet mid-shower and no one else could find them while Roger always had a towel to shower with. He smiled at the memory before he forced it away, looking back at Freddie who was smiling warmly, nodding.

“Of course, Brian.” He walked down the hall and glanced in Roger’s room but didn’t see the blonde until he reached the bathroom. The door was halfway shut and he was about to knock on it when he saw the man inside shirtless, and also saw an elongated scar on his back that stretched out from Roger’s mid back to the top of his shoulder.

He pulled himself together, forcing the tears away before he cleared his throat to let his presence known and knocked softly on the door. “Rog, darling? May I come in for a moment?”

“Oh, uhh sure.” The drummer left his pants on when he opened the door wider to invite him in.

Freddie slipped inside and opened the linen closet. “Sorry to interrupt your shower but I just wanted to show you where everything is. Obviously, the towels are in here,” he pulled out a towel for the other man and then placed a gentle hand on Roger’s shoulder before opening up the medicine cabinet. “If you need painkillers or bandages or anything, you can find them in here, darling.”

Roger nodded, feeling partially relieved when he noticed everything.

“Do you have any questions, dear?”

Roger thought for a moment and bit his lip, forgetting again. He had a lot of questions to be honest, but he didn’t want to bombard them all with them at once. He tried to bring about the most important question for the moment to the forefront of his mind.

“Soap?”

“Ah, yes, of course.” He opened the shower curtain and smiled. “You can use any of our washes, Rog. No one will mind.”

“W-Whose wash do I usually use?”

Freddie smirked. “I believe you use Brian’s, right here.” He leaned in and pointed to Brian’s body wash. “I wouldn’t know for sure though.”

Roger nodded in understanding, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “Right, thanks, Freddie.”

The singer took this as his cue to leave the room to let the other man shower and was standing in the doorway before he turned around to look at him one last time. “Oh, if you have any problems, feel free to give a shout and one of us will help you.” With that, he closed the door behind him to give Roger privacy and headed back out to the kitchen to join the other men.

Brian waited until he heard the water running when he looked over at Freddie. “How is he to you?”

The singer raised an eyebrow. “Better than he used to be. Less of a prick.”

Brian sniggered softly before playfully smacking Freddie’s arm. “I’m serious! How does he seem to you? Has he said anything about anything?”

“He’s quieter,” John said solemnly before Freddie could answer.

He nodded in agreement and looked at Brian. “He’s been through a traumatic experience, Brian. I think you should sit him down and talk to him. He _must_ have questions about… who he is, or… was. I can see it in his eyes, dear. His silence isn’t very reassuring.”

Brian looked over at him after he stirred the pasta in the pot. “Wait a minute, why _me?_ Why should _I_ be the one to talk to him and answer all his questions? You could help me out a little and do the same.”

John looked over at Brian now. “You two were the closest, Brian,” he said matter-of-factly, leaving no room for debate. “It seems right that you’re the one to talk to him. I think he’s more likely to open up to you, anyway.”

The guitarist doubted it somehow but he gave a reluctant sigh and nodded. “All right, then.”

Roger finished washing up and then quickly dried himself off before he changed into a pair of pajamas he had found in his room. Whether they were his or Brian’s, he wasn’t sure, but they were comfortable, reassuring.

After he was dressed, he walked out to the kitchen where there was a plate of food waiting for him on the table, steam still coming off of it. He smelled the sauce and spices on the pasta and felt his stomach rumble hungrily. He sat down and started to eat, aware of all the men’s’ eyes on him as he did so. They ate until they were stuffed and then Freddie took their plates before going into the kitchen and pulling out four small glasses.

Brian gave Roger a small smile and the drummer returned it, unsure what to say. He ran a hand through his mop of hair before he looked at him with soft eyes and was about to speak when he saw Freddie place four glasses in front of them at the table.

Roger took his and sniffed it.

_Rum._

Brian rolled his eyes when he took a sip of it. “Really, Fred? You think right now is a good time to get shitfaced?”

“It’s the perfect time, darling! We’re celebrating Roger’s return, now drink up!”

John laughed softly and took a drink before he watched the drummer also take a drink before he winced at the aftertaste. Brian reluctantly took a small sip, watching his friend look a bit tense as he looked around.

“What’re you looking for, mate?” He asked kindly.

Roger glanced over at Freddie. “Umm… a cigarette? Would you mind?”

Brian and Freddie both exchanged surprised glances at each other before the singer stood up and walked into the living room before grabbing something off the coffee table and then returned to the dining room, placing a barely used package of cigarettes in front of the blonde.

“Of course, darling. These are yours. You bought them the night before the accident. No more bumming off of me, I’m afraid,” he gave a teasing wink.

Roger felt the texture of the package before he took one out and found his lighter inside of it as well. He lit the end of it and took a long drag before exhaling and took a sip of the rum. As he did so, something flashed in his mind, like a scene unfolding before him quickly.

Or a memory.

He must have reacted strangely because when he opened his eyes, he saw the others looking at him cautiously.

“Are you all right, Rog?” John asked softly.

The drummer nodded and suddenly felt embarrassed but he took another drag before exhaling shakily. “I-I think I remember something…”

The others watched him curiously, taking sips of their rum drinks.

“What did you remember?” Brian asked.

Roger took another drink, deciding he needed a little liquid courage first. “Umm... i-it was really fast, but… I was somewhere else, some kind of club and it was nighttime, I think. There was someone else there next to me, but… that’s all I remember from it.”

Brian smiled to himself weakly before he looked over at the others while glancing at Roger. “The rum made him remember because he had rum that night. It’s evocative,” Brian explained. “It made him remember because he tasted it before.”

Lightbulbs clicked on over Freddie and John’s heads now.

“Like the cigarette,” the singer deduced in realization.

The older man nodded. “Exactly,” he looked over at his friend so he wasn’t leaving him out of the conversation. “You smoked them before the accident, and the smell of it on the way home from hospital made you crave one.”

Roger gave a thoughtful look before he took another drink, but didn’t see anything else this time. He just tasted the alcohol on his tongue and the slight burning sensation as it moved down his throat. He leaned back in his chair and took another drag of his cigarette.

“I didn’t remember anything though in the van,” he shrugged. “No flashes of anything that time.”

It was John’s turn to speak. “Maybe it doesn’t happen every time? You smoked every day but you don’t normally drink rum. Maybe it’s just certain things that make you remember.”

“Maybe,” Roger finished his drink and looked at the glass before looking back up at his band mates. “I don’t… _remember_ the memory, though. I mean, I saw it in my head, but I don’t recall what even happened. It didn’t make sense.”

Freddie gave a pointed look to Brian now before he motioned to Roger with his eyes.

The guitarist finished his drink quickly now before he looked at his friend. “Come on, Rog. Get another drink if you want to but meet me in the bedroom. We should talk a little bit.”

The invitation made Roger a bit nervous but he didn’t grab another glass of alcohol. He did grab his cigarettes and lighter, though, before walking into their shared room. He sat on the bed and waited until Brian did the same, a second glass of rum in his hand.

“What’s going on?” the blonde asked anxiously as he lit another cigarette.

Brian thought about how he wanted to tell him this. It could potentially make him feel more confused than he already was. Roger had become a blank slate after his accident and now the older man was about to start writing all over him; he didn’t want to write something on his friend that couldn’t be erased.

“You’ve been pretty quiet since the accident, and… I know that all of this must be a lot for you to take in, Roger. I’m… so sorry that you even have to go through this,” he rubbed his temple. “But I think it’s important that you start asking questions when you want to, because if you don’t, then you’re just going to keep walking blindly in the dark, groping for a light switch. I can tell you have questions… I can see it every time I look at you,”

Roger shifted his weight on the bed, feeling like this man was reading his mind. He took another drag from his cigarette and exhaled it through his nose before he nodded in understanding.

Since the other man didn’t say anything, Brian continued. “It doesn’t matter what time of day it is, where we are, or… how… silly or embarrassing the question might be. I want you to ask it. If you’re uncomfortable asking me about it, then… ask Freddie or John. We’re all really close, and… we’ve seen the worst of each other. No one’s going to judge you here, I promise, including me. So… ask me whatever you want to ask me right now,” he said gently, patiently before taking another drink of his rum.

Roger felt like a weight had been lifted off of him, his stomach no longer in a tight knot. He hadn’t wanted to be a burden already by asking questions about things, but he couldn’t help but feel grateful that he had this opening now.

“All right… what happened at the club, the memory I had a few minutes ago? I mean, where you there too or did I tell you about it or anything? It felt… strange, like I could feel something.”

Brian gave the drummer a warm, reassuring smile before he looked at him, feeling nervous inside. “We were all there, actually. Freddie… well, I wouldn’t normally tell anyone else this in passing, but… he’s gay, in case you didn’t know. He dragged us to a gay club for drinks and dancing. You normally drink lager or vodka but this time, Freddie bought you rum.”

Roger laughed a little. “Does he normally do all this?”

The guitarist joined him and cracked a grin. “Oh, yes. He does this type of thing a lot, actually. Anyway, John and I aren’t big on dancing so we stayed at the table. You and Freddie went off together but we could still see you. You danced for about an hour, and then you went back to the bar area and sat down to smoke a little. Freddie went off on his own somewhere and a man sat down beside you. This next part, I wasn’t close enough for, but you told me about it afterwards; the man and you hit it off, and then you two… started making out, right there at the bar. I _did_ see that, though.”

Roger tried to imagine this but couldn’t, and it caused him to knit his brows together in confusion before he laughed again. “Really?”

Brian nodded confidently. “Really. So… you took a cab back here to the flat with him, and you told me how you both…” he trailed off now, rubbing the back of his neck again. “You two had sex together, and he spent the night in the room. I had come home and saw the door closed so I had slept out on the couch that night.”

He watched Roger’s reaction and saw the man’s face fall some as he tried to make sense of this. He saw more questions shooting off like fireworks in his mind now and waited for the inevitable.

The drummer took a long drag before he narrowed his eyes slightly. “It was… consensual? I mean, we both wanted it?” He had to make sure.

Brian nodded once. “Yeah, you told me it was the morning after. You felt pretty good about it having had happened.”

“So…” Roger sighed softly, feeling his head spin a little. “I’m gay too, then? Like Freddie?” He hoped it hadn’t come out regretfully or anything; he just wanted to make sure he knew what Brian had just told him.

Brian cocked his head to the side before he narrowed his eyes in thought, giving a hum. He put his hand out, turning it on its side in the so-so motion. “Sort of?”

Roger looked at him in disbelief now, scoffing slightly. “Sort of? What kind of answer is that?”

“Well, I mean, it’s a grey area. You’ve… slept with a lot of women, Rog,” Brian started carefully. “And you’ve felt pretty strong attractions to them as well, but you’ve also been with a few men too and also have felt attraction to them. So… you’re technically bisexual, you’re attracted to both.”

Roger took this in but he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He felt mortified that this near stranger to him knew more about his sexual history than he did himself. He ran a hand through his hair and took another drag off his cigarette before he put it out in the ashtray nearby. He felt dizzy.

“Talk to me, Rog,” Brian nearly begged. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

“I-I don’t know. I can’t… like both, I mean… can I? I don’t even know how I feel. I don’t even remember sleeping with anyone! How can I be w-what I a-am?” He scoffed at himself before he shook his head before he felt panic building up quickly in his chest and realized he couldn’t breathe suddenly. He looked around frantically before he stood up and immediately fell on his knees on the floor, gasping for air.

Brian tried to reach out for Roger just before he fell but he was too late. He ran to his side, kneeling down on the floor as well but remained calm. He placed his hands gently on the drummer’s shoulders, lifting him up a little so he wasn’t hunched over anymore.

As soon as Brian touched his shoulders, Roger experienced another flash in his mind, of a scene very much like this one, and let out a cry, putting his hands to his head. He reached out for the guitarist desperately, his fingers starting to go numb as he hyperventilated uncontrollably in front of him.

If he hadn’t been embarrassed before, he sure as hell was now.

“Roger, you’re having a panic attack right now but it’s okay. You’re safe, and nothing bad is going to happen to you. You need to breathe though, yeah?” When he saw the other man nod frantically, he kept talking. “Okay, we’re going to try inhaling through our nose for seven seconds, and then exhaling slowly for eleven. Do you think you can do try that with me?”

Roger nodded but when he tried to inhale, it sounded nasally as he hyperventilated. He exhaled as slowly as he could but the panic in his head was blinding. He watched as Brian inhaled and imitated him, followed by exhaling and he tried to meet his pace.

The two men did this several more times and Roger began to feel a bit better, although he had tears on his face and his head spun with dizziness.

“Your breath is coming back now, isn’t it?” Brian said knowingly, smiling. “You’re doing really well, Roger. A few more times, okay?”

The drummer nodded and practiced the breathing exercise a couple more times until he felt like he could breathe somewhat normally again. Once he could do this, he looked at Brian.

“I-It happened again…”

“What happened?”

“T-The flashes,” Roger rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling physically exhausted as he knelt on the floor. “I saw something else, but… it was this. It was just what was happening just now.”

Brian wet his lips and sighed, leaning back on his knees, nodding. “Do you want to know what it means?” Roger nodded now, searching the guitarist’s eyes. “You came to me before, the first time you had sex with… a man. You were feeling really confused and messed up, and you had a panic attack and… that was probably what you saw.”

Roger sat against the bed for a few minutes, trying to comprehend all of this. That made sense, of course. He still felt confused about what he was, but he trusted Brian, for reasons he didn’t understand. He took a shaky breath before letting it out and put his face in his hands.

Brian felt so sad watching his friend do this, unable to even imagine what was going on in his head right now. He placed a comforting hand on Roger’s knee before gently thumbing it.

“It’s going to be all right. I know it’s really confusing for you to understand, but you will and we’ll help you get through all this. I promise. Come on, we should go to sleep.”

He stood up and waited until Roger looked up at him before he helped him up on his feet and to the bed. Roger quietly got under the covers, feeling Brian’s body shift on the mattress as he did the same. He didn’t think he would get any sleep tonight until he felt his eyes close and exhaustion completely take his body over.


	3. muscle memory

**.   .   .**

  
The next morning when Roger woke up, his body still felt worn out from the panic attack the previous night but he knew he had to get up and start the day. He looked over and saw Brian still sleeping peacefully beside him.

He took a few minutes to admire the older man and felt a warmness flow through him.

_What did he feel? Was it love for the man?_

He wasn’t really sure, but he also didn’t want to be thinking about it so early in the morning before his coffee. If he was what Brian had told him he was, then it was possible he might be feeling actual love or perhaps just lust for the man. He ran a hand through his hair before he stood up and quietly left the bedroom, closing the door behind him so the guitarist could continue to sleep.

Roger walked out to the living room and saw John already drinking coffee, music playing softly on the radio. He felt like he vaguely knew the song that was currently playing, but he couldn’t pinpoint the band. He walked into the kitchen and looked around for coffee cups but didn’t see any.

“Err… mugs are in the top right corner cabinet,” a gentle voice guided him from near the counter.

Roger looked up to see John pointing to a cabinet near his head and gave him a polite smile and a grateful nod before opening it up and taking out a random mug, pouring his coffee in it. “Cheers.”

“No problem.”

Roger took a sip and then walked over to where John was standing before he sat down in a chair and then glanced over and saw he had left his cigarettes on the table. He shyly took the package and lit one between his lips, feeling the craving strike him again after he had taken the first sip of his coffee. He saw John join him at the table.

“How’re you feeling? Still sore from the accident?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, a bit. My head still hurts and my arm is killing me. Umm... did the hospital give me anything? Painkillers or whatever?”

John’s eyes widened. “Shit… yeah. He did, come to think of it. _Fuck._ I’m sorry, mate. We forgot to get the prescription filled. Do you want to come with me to do that this morning while everyone’s still asleep?”

The drummer tensed a little before he gently knocked the excess ash of the cigarette into the ashtray in the middle of the table. “You don’t mind if I tag along?”

John smiled warmly now before he shook his head. “Not at all. I’d like to have your company, Rog.”

Roger smiled back at him and nodded. “All right, then. Sure. When do you want to leave?”

John took another drink of his coffee. “Take your time this morning, have your coffee, smoke. I still have to shower and get dressed anyway. There isn’t any rush.”

The two men continued to sip their coffee and talk softly about menial things that strangers usually talk about: the weather, songs on the radio, random things that anyone who didn’t know each other that well could carry on a conversation about.

Finally, John excused himself two cups of coffee later to go shower, leaving Roger alone to smoke his third cigarette. Roger was halfway through it when he heard footsteps and saw Freddie grab a cup of coffee and sit down at the table.

“Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?”

Roger shrugged and winced slightly when he felt the pain in his arm. “I felt exhausted enough that I barely even felt the pain. Umm…” he felt the heat rise in his cheeks in embarrassment, suddenly forgetting the bassist’s name. “I’m going with… someone, to get my prescription filled this morning.”

Freddie looked at him with curiosity. “Someone? Who, darling? Brian?”

Roger scrunched his face up in frustration before he shook his head. “N-No, the… the other one. He’s in the shower right now.”

“Ah, yes. That’s John, dear. Deaky,” he reminded the drummer gently, smiling. “He’s always up for helping you, even when you least deserve it.”

Roger started to wonder when he least deserved to be helped.

  _What had he done in the past that had been questionable of deserving help? Had he fucked one of them over somehow, or angered them to the point of a fight?_

He took another drag of his cigarette instead of asking and then put it out in the ashtray as he exhaled. “How… how did you sleep?”

The singer looked at him thoughtfully. “I slept wonderfully, Rog. Thank you for asking,” Roger gave him a small smile. Freddie looked hesitant at first before he spoke again. “Might I ask you a question?”

This was a change for the drummer; usually he was the one who was full of questions, not the other way around. He nodded automatically. “Yeah, sure.”

Freddie took another sip of coffee before he turned his full attention to the blonde. “Have you remembered anything about… the night of your car accident, darling? Has anything come back to you at all, no matter how small it might seem?”

The singer’s questions made him think but then he remembered last night with Brian. He started to pick at his cuticles of his nails nervously.

“A-A little, yeah. I mean, it wasn’t about the night of the accident, but uhh… I talked to Brian last night about the… memory I had at the table after dinner and he told me t-that I like guys and girls,” he said awkwardly. “That I was… bisexual.”

Freddie’s face didn’t give anything away but he did give Roger a warm smile. “Yes, I believe that you are, darling. How do you feel about that?”

Roger knitted his brows. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it, I mean, I don’t think I personally believe there is or anything, but… is it possible? To feel attracted to both? Don’t I have to, you know, choose one? Gay or straight?”

Freddie’s face turned serious and he searched Roger’s eyes. “People usually label me as gay, but… I loved my first love, who was a lovely woman, and… I felt like I was attracted to her physically as well. That’s all it is though, Roger, a label. You could always go somewhere and see how you feel about both, I suppose, if it concerns you that much? If you need some validation, it might be a smart thing to do. I don’t believe that it’s that important to label yourself, however, dear. Labels are for soup cans, not people. Does that make any sense?”

Roger took this in and leaned in his chair pensively, not really having thought about things like this before, at least not since the accident. He nodded slowly. “Yeah, it makes sense. I’m… I’m sorry, I mean…I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, Freddie. I was just really confused about what Brian told me and it –"

He was rambling now but only because he felt somewhat nervous about the conversation he was having. He didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with the lead singer of the band he was apparently in the second day they got him back.

Freddie waved him off dismissively as if to say ‘don’t worry about it.’ “You haven’t offended me at all,” he said sincerely. “I’m very glad you brought this up, as a matter of fact, Roger. These things _should_ be discussed and I’m very honored you discussed it with me. These types of questions shouldn’t be bottled up either, darling. If you wish to talk about this more in the future, I don’t mind talking about it with you, Rog.”

The drummer breathed a sigh of relief now, nodding in understanding. “O-Okay. Thanks, Freddie.”

The singer let out a soft chuckle of amusement now. “I have to say, dear… I find it hilarious you can’t remember Deaky’s name, but you can remember mine. I _must_ be sure to tell him!”

Roger tensed a little but found himself also snickering a little, despite his mild fear. “Maybe… it’s just because you’re so memorable looking?” he teased.

Freddie let out a loud laugh now in surprise before he grinned.

“What’s so funny?”

“You, darling,” Freddie smirked playfully. “That sounds like just the thing Roger would have said to me. It was lovely to hear it, actually.”

Roger smiled and then felt a bit awkward before he scratched his nose and stood up, pushing his chair in. “I should go get changed to leave. Thanks, though, for the talk.”

Freddie nodded, still smiling at the drummer. “Of course, dear. Any time.”

Roger walked inside his room but froze when he saw a mostly naked Brian standing in the middle of changing, just having finished putting his underwear on. The guitarist laughed nervously, seeing Roger’s reaction.

“S-Sorry,” Roger apologized, forcing his eyes away as he started to rummage in his closet for something to change into. “I should’ve…umm… knocked first.”

“No worries,” Brian chuckled. “I’m pretty much used to you walking in on me while I’m getting changed. Did you have some coffee?”

Roger pulled out a pair of black pants, a white tank top, and a red shirt. “Hmm?” he asked, distracted. The image of Brian’s pale skin seemed seared into his mind at the moment. “Oh, y-yeah. I did.”

“Good,” Brian pulled on a pair of jeans and put on a long sleeved shirt with a black vest over the top. “All right, it’s safe to look.”

Roger glanced over at him, not having gotten changed yet himself. He didn’t know what to say so he just stood there, staring at the guitarist like a _goddamn_ idiot. He was grateful that he brought the silence a few moments later.

“Going somewhere, Rog? You usually stay in your pajamas all day long.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, umm…” _Think. Think, you fucking moron. What was the nickname Freddie used earlier?_

"Deaky told me told me that he wanted to go fill my prescription the hospital gave you guys and he invited me along. Is… that all right?”

Brian looked disappointed now, but not in Roger. He let out a sigh of frustration before he moved closer to the drummer. “Fuck, of course it’s fine. I’m so sorry, Rog. With everything happening yesterday, I completely forgot about your prescription. _Shit_.”              

The man looked so full of regret that it made Roger’s heart sink into his stomach with a strange sadness. He shook his head, giving the taller man a reassuring smile, or at least he hoped it was reassuring. “It’s fine,” he promised. “Really. We should be back shortly.”

Brian nodded. “Oh! I have a grocery list of sorts if you two wouldn’t mind doing a bit of shopping for the flat while you’re out? It’s all right if it’s too much of an adventure for you for one day, but I just thought it’d save Freddie and I a trip.”

Roger shook his head. “Yeah, sure. No problem.” He was glad for the extra time with the bassist; he needed to get to know all of them all over again so this seemed like a good moment for it.

Brian flashed a big smile. “Cheers, I appreciate it. I should have lunch ready by the time you two come back.”

The drummer smiled and nodded. “Sounds good.”

The couple seconds of silence seemed to wake up Brian now because he let out a soft chuckle. “All right, well I’ll leave you to get changed then. I’ll give John the grocery list to hang onto.”

_John. Of course, that was his name! Why couldn’t he remember it, for the love of God? It was the most common name ever._

Brian walked out and let Roger change his clothes, which proved to be a pretty long and difficult task with his arm brace, but after about fifteen minutes and some cursing to himself, he finally managed to do it and hurried out to the front door where John was waiting patiently for him, smiling when he saw the drummer.

 

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

The ride to drug store was a quiet, but strangely comfortable one. John dropped off the prescription and was told it’d be ready in about forty-five minutes so the two men drove to the grocery store to shop for a bit.

As they grabbed a cart and started walking the aisles, Roger glanced over at John, wondering why things seemed so easy between them.

“Are we... close, John?” He asked softly, afraid of who might overhear their conversation.

The bassist placed a couple boxes of cereal into the cart before looking over at Roger curiously. “I’d say we’re… close, as friends, if that’s what you mean. I think you’re probably the closest to Brian, to be honest, and you usually butt heads with Freddie a lot but we’re pretty close.”

Roger nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t imagine ever butting heads with the singer after their comfortable and open conversation the two of them had had this morning. It was hard to believe that he wasn’t also close to him.

There was something about John that made him feel relaxed, like he could tell this man anything. He knew this wasn’t really the place to discuss what he wanted to discuss but it was burning in his brain. He felt like he needed to talk about it or else he might go crazy.

“Umm… Brian told me I dated guys,” he started, searching the younger man’s face carefully. “I’ve been feeling… a lot about him since I came back.”

John glanced at him with interest now. “You have?”

“Y-Yeah,” he nodded. “Do you know if Brian…” he trailed off, hoping to get the message across to John but saw a blank stare instead. “If he’s into guys as well?”

John’s eyebrows raised now in surprise and he let out a small chuckle. “I don’t know, Roger,” he gave an apologetic smile. “I wish I could tell you. I’ve never seen him with other men so I couldn’t say for sure, just with women.”

Roger’s heart fell with disappointment but he tried not to show it as they continued to shop. Once they had gotten everything on the list, they packed everything into the van and started on their way home.

John cleared his throat and glanced over at his friend as he drove. “Just because I haven’t ever seen Brian with another man doesn’t mean that he’s not… like that. He could be, but maybe just afraid of how the rest of us will react to it. I wouldn’t…” he took a breath before he let out a nervous chuckle. “I wouldn’t give up hope, Rog.”

The drummer looked over at him with hope reappearing in his eyes again and he gave him a small smile. “Oh, can you also, not tell him about this conversation?”

John smiled and nodded. “Of course, mate.”

After the two got home, they set the bags on the counter and Brian was there to help unload, toast with cheese on four plates on the table.

“Help yourself, gentlemen. They’re still warm.”

John and Roger sat down at the table and started to eat when Roger felt another flashback hit him and jolted slightly in his seat.

“Roger? Rog!” a distant voice exclaimed. The feel of a hand gently shaking his shoulder forced him back to the present and he grabbed the table suddenly, looking over at Brian who was looking at him worriedly.

“Are you all right, Rog?”

The drummer nodded and took a shaky breath. “Y-Yeah, I just… it happened again, a flashback, I think. It was us eating this, and we were all talking and laughing about something.”

John and Brian both looked at each other before looking back at Roger as he placed his cheese toast back on his plate.

“I wonder what was so special about that one. He’s eaten cheese on toast for lunch all the time before,” John wondered aloud.

Brian went back to putting the groceries away. “Do you remember anything else about the flashback, Rog?”

The drummer tried to remember but his mind still felt foggy, shrugging. “Maybe it just doesn’t mean anything. It could just be a normal memory of me eating lunch. It was dark, if that means anything, like the power had gone out or something.”

The others shrugged but still seemed to be thinking about it. Brian raised an eyebrow suddenly. He smirked slightly. “The power _did_ go out that night, remember, John?”

Roger glanced over at the bassist now who thought for a moment before he suddenly laughed and nodded, finally looking back at Roger.

“The power went out because of a bad thunderstorm, and it was really dark out. Freddie got out some candles and we lit the stove and we ate cheese on toast, and Freddie had this insane idea to tell scary stories about haunted places he’d supposedly been at, but he was such a bad storyteller! He kept backtracking and it wasn’t scary at all… oh by the way, he was also completely shitfaced when the power went out…”

Brian laughed now and Roger found himself laughing, trying to imagine the scene. “Oh _god_ , his ghost impressions!”

Roger chuckled. “Ghost impressions?”

John was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. He put his hands up as he started doing an imitation. “‘Awhoooooooo…’” he wigged his fingers, fighting back laughter, which only made Roger laugh more now.

Brian hit the counter, also laughing uncontrollably before he suddenly started to sing in playful teasing that John immediately joined in on. “Werewolves of London! Awhooooooo!”

The boys were laughing so hard that neither of them could breathe. Roger laughed more about their inability to control their own laughter than about the inside joke itself. Finally, the two men got themselves under control after about five minutes.

“Where is he, by the way?” Roger asked.

“He’s in his room working on songs, I think,” the guitarist answered before he finished up putting everything away and then sat at the table.

It was at that moment when Freddie skipped into the kitchen and sat down at the table, joining the other man, chuckling when he saw the three of them still laughing.

“What on _earth_ is so funny? I heard you laughing like hysterical hyenas out here…”

John covered his mouth as he ate before he spoke. “Roger remembered the night the power went out and you told scary stories that weren’t scary and you made your ghost impressions.”

“Oh for _Christ’s_ _sake_ ,” Freddie sighed, shaking his head. “It was terrible scary! You just had to be there, is all.”

Roger grinned and finished his lunch before he took out his cigarettes and lit up, taking a drag from it before he exhaled. “So you said we’re a band, right?” The men all nodded. “Do we ever actually play music or do we just sit around eating cheese on toast all the time?”

The men looked a bit hesitant, looking around at each other somewhat nervously before they looked back at Roger.

“Are you sure you feel up for it, Rog?” Brian asked, not unkindly. “I mean, you almost died a few days ago.”

The blonde shrugged but nodded. “I’m not dead yet, am I? Anyway, it’d be interesting to see if I could still play. The future of the band kind of depends on it, yeah?”

Freddie looked over at Brian who looked at John.

“Is it possible?” The bassist asked. “Do you think he remembers how to play?”

Brian wet his lips in thought, shrugging. “I don’t know, to be honest. It might be possible that he remembers, muscle memory and all that. He’s played drums long enough. We should see if he _does_ remember.”

“Start him out on something easy?” John suggested.

“Excuse me,” Roger said, a tad annoyed now. “‘He’ and ‘him’ are right here.”

The men looked guilty now.

“Sorry, Rog,” Brian apologized, John also nodding. “What do you think, mate? Are you up for it then?”

The drummer nodded, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, come on. Let’s set up. What’s the worst that could happen, I can’t play and my career in the band is through with?” He had meant for it to sound humorous but none of the other men laughed, and it fell short, causing tension in the room instead.

“I’ll set the drum kit up for him,” Brian announced, going into another room to bring out the instrument. When he came back out, he started to set it up.

“Bass?” John asked.

Brian looked over at Roger and Freddie. “Not right now. We should just see if he can play and sing first. Freddie can sing, though. I think that might help him remember a little. Does that sound good to you guys?”

“It sounds lovely, darling.” Freddie stood up and grabbed his mic stand to prepare himself.

Roger nodded and also stood up, walking over to the drum kit before sitting down behind it. No sooner had his butt touched the seat, he felt another flashback hit him. This time, he tried not to look like he was in pain and not about to fall off his seat. He couldn’t keep making a big deal out of them; they were happening often enough and they weren’t even huge memories about anything traumatic.

Luckily, no one else seemed to notice this time as he ‘came back’ from the flashback but he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, and he felt like he could smell cigarette smoke even though he wasn’t smoking this time. He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat before he took the drumsticks in his hands.

He had seen himself sitting here, playing _something_ , smoking a cigarette, while the others were playing as well, but they weren’t here at the flat; they had been playing in front of a huge crowd somewhere. He took a moment to collect his breath and he felt like he could hear the beating of the drums in his head.

“Right, then, what song shall we try first?” Freddie asked, most likely asking Brian and John than Roger, since it was obvious he might not remember.

“You should try an easy one first, I think,” John suggested, to which Brian nodded in agreement, walking over to them. “How about ‘We Will Rock You’? It’s repetitive enough that it shouldn’t be difficult.”

Freddie smiled and nodded before he glanced over at Roger who looked lost. He looked back at the other two men. “I’m not sure he remembers song titles yet, darling. Can you two clap and stomp for a bit?” When Brian and John nodded, the singer looked back at Roger again. “Whenever you feel like it, try and play to the count, okay, dear? In your own time though. There’s no rush. I can’t really start singing until you start playing anyway.”

Roger nodded, feeling somewhat nervous inside. He saw Freddie give him an encouraging smile before turning back to the mic but he turned himself so he could look at all of his friends while he sang.

The drummer nodded and then saw Brian and John both start to clap twice before stomping. Roger closed his eyes, focusing on the claps and stomp for several seconds before he felt something he could only define as instinct kick in and he hit his bass drum in tune to the clap before hitting his snare drum in tune to the stomp. At first he was a second or two off with the beat, but he eventually caught up to Brian and John’s claps and stomps.

Freddie had waited a little bit until he had caught up before he started to sing. “Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace, kicking your can all over the place, singin'…”

It was now when Brian and John both started singing in unison together.

“We will… we will rock you. We will… we will rock you!”

As everyone sang, Roger found it oddly easy to continue drumming in tune with them and even found it fun. He smiled to himself, liking the lyrics as well as the beat and rhythm of the song he could feel himself remembering again. He closed his eyes, remembering now a scene as it unfolded before him, but his reflexes didn’t break the rhythm.

_“Genius.”_

_“Thank you, John. Come on!”_

_Roger was there, along with John, Brian, and three other women in the room, and they were all clapping and stomping together in unison._

Roger forced himself back to the present and he opened his eyes, seeing the others watching him with grins on their faces just as the song ended. He laughed softly in surprise at himself and satisfaction that he had been able to remember it.

“That was wonderful, darling!”

Brian smiled almost proudly at Roger. “Really good job, Rog.”

The drummer felt the heat rise in his cheeks at the compliment but all he could do was mumble a ‘thanks.’ Freddie looked over at the other two men now.

“Do you think he’s ready for a slightly harder song? I thought we could do ‘Fat Bottomed Girls.’ It’s still repetitive in the beginning but it also changes up some too, more so than the last one.”

“Yeah,” Brian nodded, shrugging easily. “We could try it.” He walked into the other room to grab his guitar as well as John’s bass and their amps.

They took a few minutes to set up their instruments and then a few more to tune them.

“All right, I think we’re ready,” John announced.

Freddie turned to Roger. “Don’t be frustrated if you don’t get this one as easily as the last, darling. It’s a slightly more difficult song so don’t feel like you absolutely must know it right away or anything. The three of us will start singing, and then, whenever you’re ready, you can join us and play.”

Roger nodded in understanding and as soon as he heard his friends start singing, he felt something click in his mind and at the last line of the intro to the song, he started playing his drums and saw the others start playing as well.

They went through to the very end of the song, which by that time, the blonde could feel sweat start running down his face. When they finished all together, they all were grinning and laughing joyfully together, excitement buzzing in the room now.

“That was great,” Brian smiled, nodding, giving a thumbs up to Roger.

The men celebrated with a couple beers each before they all went off to their respective bedrooms. Brian had just closed the door behind Roger and the two started to change their clothes, Roger unable to stop himself from letting his eyes wander over the guitarist’s skin. He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling an urge to touch it, but restrained himself before casting his eyes back down at himself.

“You all right, Rog?” Brian asked, worry laced in his voice.

The drummer nodded and gave a small smile before he finished changing and walked over to his side of the bed, watching Brian still changing.

“It’s pretty sad that you can change faster than me with a hurt arm.”

Roger smirked at the man and chuckled. “That _is_ pretty sad, Bri. I also don’t spend hours changing and unchanging, though. You’d probably save time if you just picked something.”

The other man turned and looked at him with surprise in his eyes, blinking. “You called me Bri.”

Roger tensed a little. _Was he not supposed to call him that?_

“S-Sorry. It just slipped out. Do you not want me to call you that?” Roger asked fearfully, afraid he had somehow messed up this friendship with him already.

Brian now shook his head and smiled. “No, no… it’s fine. It’s… great, actually. I missed hearing you call me that,” he said almost sadly. “Please, call me it when you want.”

Roger relaxed now and smirked at him, nodding. “All right, I will.” He smiled at Brian, feeling guilty for watching every moment that is body made whenever he twisted and turned, or bent a certain way. He wondered what it might feel like to touch it. He bit his lip now and tried to cast the thought away as the man finally climbed into bed under the covers.

He felt his warm body against his cooler one and once they got comfortable, he realized that Brian’s foot was casually hooked under his ankle. He questioned if the older man realized this and Roger gave him the chance to move it if he wanted to, but he never moved. Instead, Brian’s breathing evened out and once it did, Roger soon felt his own even out as well as he fell asleep.


	4. answers

**.    .    .**

The next morning, Roger felt a sharp pain in his arm and realized he had been laying on his hurt arm, facing Brian. He blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes sleepily before he saw how close he was the guitarist, inches away from his face. He could feel the soft breath coming from him as he slept peacefully.

Roger carefully moved slowly onto his back, holding his arm. He didn’t want to wake up the other man so he let himself lie there a while longer, just thinking.

He didn’t know how but he had remembered how to play yesterday. He didn’t even remember the lyrics at first but the beat of the music triggered something and he had been able to play it, and it had felt _incredible._ He smiled to himself, unable to help but feel proud that he had done that.

He suddenly felt an arm link carefully link into his and looked over to see Brian awake now, watching him with a small smile. Roger smiled back, his body feeling warm again at the casual gesture. He didn’t mind it anymore like he had the first day he had met Brian again at the hospital. The way he did it here at home seemed so natural, so safe.

“Good morning,” the older man spoke softly.

“Morning, Bri.”

“How’d you sleep?” Brian moved his body closer to Roger.

The drummer shrugged. “All right. My arm is killing me, though… could you please grab my pills? I think they’re in the kitchen.”

Brian unhooked his arm from his friend’s and nodded before he stood up. “Yeah, no problem. Back in a second.”

Roger forced himself to sit up in bed. He saw the other man come back in with two pills in his hand and a glass of water. He took them from him and swallowed the pills quickly before smiling at him.

“Thanks.”

Brian nodded and crawled back into bed but sat up beside him. They sat in a somewhat awkward silence before the older man cleared his throat, nervously looking down at his hands. “Can… I ask you something, Rog?”

“Hm? Yeah, of course.”  He looked over at him.

Brian forced himself to look at Roger. “Are you okay with our... touching? It’s just something that we did before… the accident, but the last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable with it. We’re all just… really close, and if you ever feel uncomfortable, I want you to tell me to knock it off, yeah? Don’t just go along with it for my benefit. I never want you to feel uncomfortable with me.”

His worry about Roger’s consent made the drummer’s heart grow in his chest and he felt his stomach do a flip. He smiled now and chuckled. “I’m fine with it, really. I’m comfortable.”

Brian smiled back now. “Good, I’m glad.” He playfully messed up his friend’s hair.

Roger laughed softly, gently slapping his hand away with no real fight. “So what’s the plan for today? More practice?”

Brian kicked the comforter off of his body, showing off his long, pale legs. “Yesterday was really good but I think you deserve a day off. We don’t want to overwork you too much. You should rest today, Rog.”

The drummer groaned now, throwing his head back for dramatic effect. “Noooo…. I’m fine, Bri. I’ve been in this flat for like, three straight days! I need to get out.”

Brian smirked, being reminded of the old Roger again. “You went to the store with John yesterday.”

“Fine, so not three _straight_ days, but you know what I mean? I need to get out again or else I’m going to go crazy.”

“What’d you have in mind, Rog?”

The drummer shrugged, feeling like he’s had this conversation with the taller man before, déjà vu hitting him hard like a tsunami. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s around here. Pub, club?”

“There’s both, but I don’t think you should be drinking so soon since the accident,” Brian was no longer smirking and he wasn’t even looking at Roger anymore. His body was tense and he was looking down at his hands instead. “It’s sort of what got you in trouble in the first place.”

Roger thought back to the visit at the hospital. True, he hadn’t remembered some of what was spoken between all of them anymore, but he did remember one thing Brian had told him. Sensing his anxiety beside him, Roger felt like he was thinking about it as well.

“What was the fight about?”

“What?”

“The fight you and I had,” Roger clarified. “The fight that that made you storm off.”

Brian bit his lip and took a precarious breath before he shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. It was… a stupid fight that didn’t really matter, Roger. It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

This made Roger all the more persistent and he couldn’t help but continue to question it. He turned his body to face Brian and looked at him with widened eyes. “It must have mattered somewhat since it made you not want to drive me home! Do we always have stupid fights like that? What made that fight particularly bad?”

“Stop it, all right?” Brian suddenly yelled, throwing his arms up. “Just… stop. It doesn’t matter,” he continued tersely. “It was a stupid row we had that won’t happen again so just drop it! Please…”

Roger was so taken back by the guitarist’s outburst that he felt his stomach tighten in knots and he stood up before grabbing his cigarettes. He walked out of the bedroom, leaving Brian alone. He sat on the couch in the living room before he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag from it.

 _Maybe it was just a stupid fight that didn’t matter and Roger needed to stop making a big deal about it. He just felt like there was an invisible wall between himself and Brian_ _and he didn’t like it at all._

_He was hiding something from him._

“You look deep in thought, darling,” a familiar voice spoke as it sat down beside him, placing a cup of coffee in front of Roger on the coffee table.

Roger wet his lips pensively. He knew that this was something between Brian and him, but maybe the others knew about it. “W-Were you there the night when Brian and I had the fight before I had the accident, Freddie?”

The singer looked at him curiously. “I’m afraid that John and I had left a couple hours before you or Brian did, dear. I didn’t even know you two had a fight at all. Brian never said anything about it.”

Roger sighed before he nodded, taking another drag of the cigarette. He exhaled through his nose. “Right.”

Freddie gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m very sorry, dear. I wish I could help you.”

Roger gave him a weak smile, feeling bad that he might be taking his anger towards the guitarist out on him instead. He could tell that the singer really did mean it, which made him feel all the more guilty.

“I know. Thanks, Freddie. I think I just need to get out of here. I think I have flat fever.”

Freddie’s eyes brightened now and he took a drink of coffee. “I’d be more than happy to go with you, if you’d like, darling. Wherever you want! It’s up to you.”

Roger sighed and shook his head, feeling the guilt building up inside of him now; he wanted to drink even though his drunk driving had almost gotten someone else killed. That had to make him a horrible person, but he couldn’t help it.

“I want to go somewhere where I can drink, to be honest. That’s all I want.”

Freddie’s face dimmed a little but he nodded. “Done. We’ll go to this club nearby. They have drinks and dancing. We’ll have a good time together. Have you asked the others if they’d be interested in going as well?”

Roger took an aggressive drag. “You can ask John but I don’t think Brian’s going to want to come with. We sort of just had it out just now.”

Freddie finished his coffee before he nodded. “Of course, dear. I’ll ask John then, and if he doesn’t want to go, then we’ll just have a great time without them.” He smiled brightly now, which made Roger’s face curve into a weak smile as well.

Two more cups of coffee and three cigarettes later, Brian finally emerged from the bedroom and headed into the kitchen to get some coffee as well.

Freddie stood up. “I’m going to go and wake up Deaky. I’ll be back soon.”

Roger watched as the singer disappeared and silently cursed him, feeling like he had purposely left him alone with Brian. He put out the cigarette he was currently smoking into the ashtray and stood up before he went into his room to change his clothes. When he came back out, there was still no sign of Freddie or John, but Brian was now sitting at the kitchen table with the radio turned on.

Roger didn’t know what else to do with himself to avoid the guitarist so he also sat down at the table, fighting the urge to light up again.

“What do you want to do this morning?”

Roger couldn’t believe it. It was as if they hadn’t even had an argument an hour earlier, but there was a passive aggressiveness in Brian’s voice. “I don’t know. I don’t care, to be honest.”

Brian sighed and sat back in his chair before he looked at his friend. “Let’s get lunch together at this café around the corner.”

It wasn’t really a suggestion, but more of a demand. Roger looked at him impatiently and shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”

Hurt touched the other man’s eyes. “Of course you do. Always.”

The blonde shrugged, shaking his head. “Why don’t you want to tell me about the fight? Whatever it is, either I’m sorry or I forgive you! Just tell me what it was about!”

Brian set his jaw before he stood up and looked down at him. “It’s not about you. You have nothing to apologize for. It’s on me, all right, Rog? No worries.” He placed a gentle shoulder on Roger’s shoulder before he headed for the bathroom to go shower.

The drummer was still feeling frustrated with the whole situation and wasn’t in any better a mood when Brian and him walked to the café. On the way there, he had to stop a couple times to catch his breath.

“I told you before that you need to cut down on smoking,” Brian gently chided him.

Roger let out a humorless chuckle. “Well, sorry if I don’t remember that; I was recently through a severe car accident and my brain is a bit jumbled,” he replied a bit bitterly.

This shut Brian up now and they were quiet until he asked Roger what he wanted, and then told him to go find a table. He put his sunglasses on as he waited so Brian wouldn’t be able to see his eyes. He supposed it could also be used as a way for him to feel braver, but he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt better with them on.

A few minutes later, he saw the other man come back with two large coffees and a plate that had two fruit pastries on it. He sat across from his friend and sighed softly before he leaned back in his seat. No one talked for almost ten minutes and instead, let a heavy tenseness hang between them. Getting impatient again, Roger was the first to speak.

“So what’s this about?”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“This! The café, coffee… pastries? You just suddenly feeling generous after our fight earlier, or are you just feeling guilty?”

Brian ran his hands through his hair before he took a sip of coffee and tore off a small piece of his pastry before eating it, shifting in his seat.

“Say something!” Roger demanded.

Brian scoffed and looked at his friend. “Take off your sunglasses, yeah? No fan’s going to harass you in here. Come on, mate.” He made a come hither gesture with his palm facing upwards and with most of his hand.

Roger had to fight against the urge to just storm out right now. He ripped his sunglasses off, tossing them haphazardly on the table. “Happy?”

Brian smirked slightly. “Ecstatic, thank you. Anyway, I just… want things to be okay between us, Rog and this isn’t an out of the ordinary thing for us to do. We go out for coffee and lunch sometimes here,” he said patiently.

The drummer chewed on his lower lip, looking at Brian. “Things will be just fucking dandy between us once you explain yourself. I asked you a simple question and you keep tiptoeing around it! Just give me an answer, Bri. I’m lost in the dark here and I feel like you keep you dropping razorblades on the floor for me to stop on.”

Silence for a few more minutes.

Brian sighed again, rubbing his temples before he took a deep breath. “I started the fight, Roger. The fight was my fault, and mine alone. You had every right to get angry at me and I was… defensive and yelled back before I up and left you.”

“How did you get home if I had the car?”

“I took a cab,” Brian shrugged. “I was… so angry that I wasn’t thinking but I also didn’t think you’d drive yourself home drunk. I just hoped you were smarter than that.”

Roger felt his heart sink into his stomach now and he avoided Brian’s gaze. “Apparently I’m not,” he said softly, feeling his own guilt eating away at him. “I… I almost killed those people in the other car, Bri.”

The sudden change in the drummer’s voice made Brian’s face soften. “But you didn’t. It could’ve gone a lot worse than it did, Rog. Everyone involved could’ve died. Roger, it was my fault. I never should’ve left you that night, and I regret that I did, every waking moment.”

Roger felt himself relax ever so slightly and he anxiously picked at his cuticles again. “Why was it your fault, though?” He pressed. “Why did you leave? What was it about?”

Brian groaned and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Roger. I don’t… I-I can’t –"

“Can’t what, Brian?” Roger raised his voice. When Brian didn’t say anything, Roger tried again. “You can’t _what_?” He growled loudly.

The older man tensed and he gave Roger a stern look. “Can we… please just keep this conversation between us and not the rest of the café?”

Roger scoffed before he nodded and pushed the chair back forcefully, nearly knocking it over. “Yeah, sure. You can keep the conversation to yourself now. I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you at the flat later.”

Brian stood up now and quickly grabbed the cigarettes off the table, hoping that it would deter Roger from running off. “Wait, Rog. Sit down… let’s just talk.”

“You don’t want to talk!” Roger yelled again before he stormed out of the café angrily, not sure where he was walking quickly too, but just that he needed to walk before Brian could catch up with him.

He was nearly sprinting back towards the direction they had come earlier, holding back the angry tears in his eyes, feeling foolish for wanting to cry. He walked for about ten minutes before he realized he had wasn’t on the right street as he searched for the flat again.

He swallowed hard, rubbing at his eyes before he looked around and then doubled back. He couldn’t remember anything that had been near the flat when they had walked out. After about an hour, he started to panic, walking up and down streets trying to remember _something_.

He felt like he was on verge of a panic attack when he finally saw the familiar van in the driveway and relaxed again, catching his breath.

He hurried inside to see Brian pacing before he looked up to see who had walked in the door.

“Rog!” He looked relieved. The guitarist moved over to him, searching his body for any potential injuries he might have sustained somehow. “W-Where did you go? I thought you were coming straight back here!” His voice was filled with concern and worry.

The drummer felt embarrassed now. He didn’t want to explain how he spent a whole hour looking for the damned flat. He shrugged. “I needed a walk to cool off.”

He still felt angry at him, but seeing how anxious Brian was for his safety made it temporarily disappear. He watched Brian nod and was surprised when he didn’t question where he went or how he found the flat again. Roger took this time to walk past him and sit down on the couch in the living room, trying to avoid Freddie and John’s also concerned looks towards him.

“John and I were about to play a couple games of Scrabble, dear,” Freddie spoke after a couple minutes. “Would you like to join us?”

Roger’s eyebrows knitted together and looked at them. “What’s Scrabble?”

The three men exchanged looks at each other before looking back at Roger.

“It’s a word-making game. Each letter is worth a certain number of points, and when you make a word with them, you add it up. Whoever has the most points at the end of the game wins,” John explained with a patient smile. `

Roger felt a bit nervous but he really did want to play, the argument he had had with the older man now completely forgotten, whether it was on accident on purpose.

“Excellent, darling!” Freddie clapped his hands before he hurried over and grabbed the game from a small table in the living room.

Roger watched as the other two men grabbed pillows from the couch and threw them on the floor, giving him one as well before Freddie started to set the board up. He bit his lip, noticing that Brian was staring at him with almost apologetic eyes but didn’t say anything.

The game was slow going at first, Roger only making three letter words until something clicked on in his brain and the words became a bit longer over time until the game was over.

“Who won?”

“Brian,” Freddie said disappointedly before adding, “But I came in second. Roger in third, and John last.”

Instead of looking crestfallen, the bassist chuckled. “I’m terribly out of practice.”

Freddie gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t fret, darling. We still have two more games to go. You can still move up.”

He set the board back up and they played another game, this time Roger came in last and John was in third; Brian still won it all, however. By the last game, Roger’s brain felt so fried that he didn’t even care that he had come in last again.

Luckily, by that time, it was time to head over to the club.

“We haven’t even decided what club we’re going to, Fred,” Brian remarked gently as he packed the game away again.

“I _have_ , actually. I know exactly where we’ll go, dear!”

Brian looked slightly worried but he just smirked, not bothering to argue with the singer. If he was being honest, he needed to have a couple drinks as well, but another part of him didn’t like this idea either.

“Let’s take a cab,” he suggested.

The men glanced around at each other before looking a bit anxiously in Roger’s direction and nodded in agreement.

The drummer wasn’t about to argue with it; he didn’t even want to get behind the wheel again after what had happened to him, even though he couldn’t remember any of it. The fact that he had injured innocent people in his crash was enough reason for him.

They all got changed and ready before they piled into a cab and headed for a club which Freddie wouldn’t tell the name of. When they got there, Roger heard Brian sigh heavily and look uneasy before shooting the singer a cold look which went unnoticed.

Roger was confused about Brian’s behavior but followed the others inside regardless and found the atmosphere of the club hypnotizing; the music was loud but energetic. Freddie ordered them a round of pints and they found a table to sit at.

Almost instantly, Freddie grabbed his beer and then hurried off to go dance. Roger looked over and saw Brian looking nervously at him but chose to ignore the uneasy feeling between the two of them for now. Instead, he looked over at John and leaned in to be heard over the loud music.

“Do we come here a lot?” Roger asked him.

John shook his head, his lips pursed in a tight smile. “No, not really. We were… once before, but that was it.” There was something in his voice that told Roger that he thought coming here had been a bad idea, but he didn’t know why.

“Deaky, do you know why Brian is so pissed at me right now?” He asked pointedly. He saw John glance over at him.

“Is he?”

Roger looked over and saw how tense Brian looked right now, his hands gripped tightly around the glass. He looked back at John but the bassist had stood up now and excused himself to the loo.

Roger drank his beer quickly out of frustration before he got up and got another, drinking that one down fairly quickly as well. No matter how tense Brian looked, though, he had only made it through half of his first one, looking vastly disinterested in it and this place in general.

After about another hour of being in here, Roger couldn’t stand the tenseness between himself and Brian anymore. “Excuse me, Deaky, I want to leave now, I think.”

John stood up to let him out of the booth and Roger had made it outside where it was now pouring rain when he heard a voice behind him.

“Wait! Roger… why are you leaving?”

The drummer turned around to look at Brian. “Why does it matter? You don’t want to be here either! You should want to leave too. I’m going to get a cab.”

“You don’t have any money, Rog,” the other man spoke matter-of-factly. “Anyway, w-who says I don’t want to be here? We came here to have a good time, yeah?”

The rain was soaking the two of them but neither seemed to care. Roger threw his arms up, feeling frustrated again.

“You, by the looks of it! You look like you’re trying out to be a gargoyle on a sodding church! What’s going on with you, Bri? Why are you acting like you’re so mad at me right now?”

Brian shifted his weight uncomfortably now, looking anywhere except at his friend. He looked fearful at first before his face turned angry. “I’m not… mad at you, Rog. I’m angry at Freddie for bringing us here! He shouldn’t have!”

“Why not? What’s going on?” Roger yelled over the sound of the rain as it fell harder, seemingly matching their mood.

Brian scoffed, looking like he was about to explain why but then stopped himself, running his hands through his damp hair, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Come on, we should go back home.”

Roger felt Brian gently grab his arm but he felt a wave of rage wash over him that he ripped his arm away and took a step back. “No! Now tell me what’s going on, Brian! Why shouldn’t we have come here? It’s just a club!”

“I-It’s not just a club, Roger… it’s a…” he trailed off, but looked like he wanted to keep talking. “It’s a gay club!”

Roger shook his head in confusion, still feeling lost in this conversation. “So? So what? Freddie’s gay, isn’t he? And from what you told me, I’m at least half! This seems like the perfect place to have gone!”

Brian growled loudly in anger. “No! It’s not! You just… you don’t _get_ it, Roger!”

The drummer couldn’t stop himself now and he angrily pushed Brian’s chest with his arms, causing the other man to only stumble back a little bit. “Then fucking tell me! Tell me what I’m not getting!” He yelled over the rain still.

As soon as he had said the words, he felt his body be thrown into another flashback, causing himself to stumble a bit as he went into his own head.

_“It seems like the perfect place to have gone, isn’t it? Why was it a mistake coming here, Bri?”_

_“No! It wasn’t. You just… you don’t get it, Roger!”_

_“Then fucking tell me! Tell me what I’m not getting!”_

Roger felt déjà vu sweep through him freely again and tried to come back but his mind wouldn’t let him yet.

_“You should know!”_

_Roger looked at the guitarist with confusion in his eyes, shaking his head. “Know what? Know what, Bri?!”_

_The older man had tears in his eyes. “That I fucking love you, all right?! Is that what you want to hear, Rog? Was that the answer you wanted?”_

_Roger shook his head. “No. Fuck you. You had your chance! You had it before and you blew it! I’m with someone else now so you have to get over that or else you have to fire me from the band because I can’t deal with this!”_

_“I just told you what you wanted to hear and now you’re the one pissed off at me? Are you fucking kidding me, Roger?”_

_“I DIDN’T WANT TO HEAR IT AT ALL!” Roger screamed at him as identical rain poured on them relentlessly._

_Brian shook his head. “Fuck you! Fuck you and fuck Queen! I can’t be around you when you don’t give a shit about me and how I feel!” He stormed off and disappeared from the memory._

Roger heard muffled yelling again and realized that he had fallen on the ground. He looked around, his clothes soaked and his bones chilled.

“Roger! Rog! Are you all right, mate? Come back to me, now…”

The drummer blinked when he looked at the other man. He had found answers to the question that he had asked since he woke up in the hospital, and now he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anymore.


	5. clarification

**.    .    .**

They were taking a cab ride back home after Brian had gone back inside to let John and Freddie know what was going on, and the silence between them was deafening.

Roger looked down at his hands, biting his lip. They had both said a lot of horrible things to each other that night and even though Brian had apparently confessed his love for the drummer, there was a part of Roger that hoped the memory hadn’t been right.

Maybe it was distorted. Maybe his brain had been influenced by Brian in such a way that it made him hear what he wanted to hear. He had traumatic brain injury; he couldn’t trust himself. He would need to hear it from his mouth, but things were a bit tense between them right now that the blonde was hesitant to bring it up.

He could feel the guitarist’s eyes glance over at him a bit nervously but he didn’t say anything until they got back to the flat. Roger was feeling somewhat grateful that they were the only two home so far. He didn’t think he could handle the others knowing about this yet.

When Brian closed the door, he finally spoke. “Talk to me, Roger. I know you had a flashback. What was it about?”

Roger shook his head, not wanting to deal with this yet. “I’m going to bed.” He turned his back and started to his room but then heard footsteps following him.

He walked into the room and started to change quietly.

“Please, Rog. Please talk to me,” the older man pleaded, searching Roger’s face. “What was it? Whatever it was, it really affected you, and I want to help you understand it.”

Roger swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat and a knot in his stomach. He finally looked up at him.

“I-It was about… That Night, the night of the accident. I saw us outside the same club, and… we were arguing. We… we were saying almost the exact same things, but then...” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Then what, Rog?” Brian searched his face.

“You… told me you loved m-me,” he said quietly, not daring to look at Brian’s eyes. “Did you mean it?”

The guitarist looked tense, chewing on his bottom lip before he rubbed his chin. “However I feel about you doesn’t matter, Roger. It was a different state of mind for you and it’s unfair of me to expect you to feel the same now, and for the record, I don’t expect anything of you.”

Roger sighed to himself, and shook his head, dissatisfied. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You’re not the same person last week as you are now, Rog,” Brian tried to explain again even though the drummer could see the heartbreak in his eyes. “And that’s fine. I was angry that night because I had seen you with someone else and… it hurt me, but I’m over that now.”

Roger could tell Brian was trying to sound sincere but his tone of voice suggested otherwise. He didn’t know where to look anymore. He felt so nervous himself that he thought his body might collapse in on itself.

“Please, Bri,” Roger tried again. “Just… answer my question: yes or no; are you still in love with me?”

_He needed to know._

The other man looked so conflicted. “It’s complicated, Rog. I can’t… I can’t love you. There’s too many factors involved. You… have someone else, you were just in a serious accident, you –"

Roger shook his head. “Where was this ‘someone else’ when I was in the hospital? I didn’t see him come visit me once! Did you?”

Brian shook his head.

“Exactly. All I saw were you guys. _You_ came to see me, every day. As far as being in a serious accident, I might have had brain surgery but I still can think for myself, mate.”

Brian was smirking a little bit now, ever so slightly. “Are you saying… that you love me, Roger?”

The drummer chuckled now as they both danced around each other. “I… I have a lot of feelings towards you, but I’m not sure if it’s _love_ love. I mean, I love you like a friend, I feel that kind of love between us, and I feel a really strong physical attraction to you. I just don’t…”

He was rambling, and they both knew it. Roger could feel the butterflies flying around in his stomach nervously. It was dangerous territory for them both that could either make their friendship stronger or break it completely, along with Queen.

Brian put up a hand. His eyes looked slightly disappointed but Roger felt like it could be a lot worse. “All right, then. Let’s not put a label on this. Let’s just… play it by ear, and see how it goes?”

“How do you mean?”

Brian took a step towards his friend. “I mean… let’s just have fun. We can be affectionate, and loving but… we won’t call it love. We won’t call it lust. Let’s just let whatever will happen, happen and not worry about anything else.”

Roger understood now but it didn’t ease the snake recoiling in his stomach. He felt like a virgin all over again. He still had memories that he was sure would pop up eventually, and a basic understanding of sex between both men and women, but as far as doing anything with Brian, he was brand new at this kind of thing.

He nodded and gave a small smile. “What about Freddie and John? Are we going to tell them about it?”

Brian looked conflicted once again and shrugged. “I think this will be worse if we keep it a secret from them, to be honest. I don’t think either of them will have take issue with it. Usually you’re the only difficult one in this band.”

Roger chuckled again, rolling his eyes before he moved closer to Brian. He felt his heart thrashing wildly in his chest the closer they got and he couldn’t hide the smirk from appearing on his face. Since they had gotten back from the hospital, the drummer had hid his feelings about the older man deep inside, never dreaming that he’d have this opportunity with him.

Brian still looked conflicted, guilt laced in his green flecked hazel eyes. “There’s no pressure here, okay, Rog? If ever you don’t feel comfortable doing something, tell me, and I’ll stop, no questions asked. We’ll go as slow or as fast as you like; I just want you to feel comfortable, always.”

His concern for Roger touched him deeply and he felt red rise in his cheeks. “All right. Well, I think I feel fine about doing this,” he leaned in now, placing his hands on Brian’s hips before he began to kiss his lips.

As he did so, he could taste the beer on his lips and tongue as his own tongue caressed his. He felt nervousness and excitement both combine into one and felt even better when Brian put his hands on Roger’s face, kissing him back passionately.

It occurred to him now that he seemingly hadn’t properly broken up with his previous boyfriend, or whatever he was to Roger, and that the guy might come around eventually. The blonde already had a few choice words for him, feeling an odd anger towards the stranger.

None of that mattered right now, though. He felt Brian gently push him against the wall as he continued to kiss him. Roger felt his excitement growing but he felt nervous about going all the way when he hadn’t even remembered what it felt like when he had before. Everything was brand new to him.

He moved his hands from the guitarist’s hips to his chest, lightly stopping him. Before the other man could apologize for going too fast, Roger got the first word in. “I want to… you know, with you. I do. I want some time to get to know you better, though, if that’s all right.”

His words came out in such a whisper that he didn’t even know if Brian had heard him until he took a step back and nodded, chuckling shakily. “Yeah, of course. That’s perfectly fine, Rog.” He smiled genuinely. “Do you mind if I just kiss you once more?”

Roger smirked and shook his head. “No, mate. Go for it.”

He felt Brian’s mouth collide with his own but only for a few too-short moments before he pulled himself apart from him, his lips curving into a bright smile as he ruffled up his friend’s blonde hair almost lovingly.

“Are you ready for bed, or did you want to wait up for the others?” he asked once he parted from Roger.

Roger shook his head. “I’m wiped from earlier. I think I drank too much.” He glanced over and saw a worried look and right then, he felt like he knew what Brian was thinking, and he couldn’t explain it. “Don’t worry, you didn’t take advantage of me. I’m not quite that drunk.”

Brian gave a half smile and another chuckle before he nodded in understanding, relaxing a little. “I’m a bit tired too. I could sleep as well.”

He pulled back the covers and waited until Brian changed and got under them before he did too and then pulled them back over both of them. The guitarist moved onto his side before he searched Roger’s eyes.

The drummer smiled and swallowed anxiously. “Can we… snuggle?”

Brian’s brows raised in surprise but then he laughed softly, grinning. “Come here, you prat.” He waited until Roger scooted his body closer and then wrapped his arms around him tightly, closing his eyes.

The blonde smiled to himself, feeling warmth enclose around him, his head near Brian’s chest, and fell asleep to the sound of the other man’s steady beating of his heart.

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

  
The next morning, Roger woke up facing the window with Brian behind him, still holding him close. He waited a few minutes until he heard a soft, relaxed sigh come from him letting Roger knew his friend was awake.

“Mmm…” he hummed tiredly. “How long have you been awake for?”

“Not long,” Roger whispered back, feeling safe in his arms. He could feel dread building up inside of him though at the thought of what they’d have to do today. “Do we have to tell them?”

Brian started running his fingers through Roger’s hair softly. “Yeah, we do, Rog.”

“Why?”

“They’re going to find out anyway,” he answered patiently, his voice still gentle. “Eventually. I think it’s better they know about it now before they walk in on us accidentally or something.”

Roger knew he had a valid point, but it didn’t make the task at hand any easier. He knew they were supposed to be his close friends, but he felt like he had just met them for the first time a week ago. How was he supposed to tell them that two members of the band were dating each other? He couldn’t see that going over well.

Brian sighed again before he lightly made Roger turn around onto his back so he could look at him. “Are you… ashamed of what we’re doing?”

“We’re barely doing anything at all,” he replied, shrugging, no ounce of regret or remorse about it in his voice, though. “It’s more of… what we’re going to eventually be doing.”

The older man nodded in understanding, cupping his hand against Roger’s cheek before he caressed the skin there. “I know. I know you don’t remember, but… after Freddie… came out, and asked us what we thought about him, he made us promise that there wouldn’t be any secrets in the band. If we keep our relationship, or whatever, from him and John, then they’re not going to be happy when they find out about it may it be weeks or months from now,”

He could tell that Brian was trying to take a logical stand about it, but the more he listened, the more Roger didn’t agree with telling them. He had an awful feeling in his stomach about it, one that he couldn’t explain. He gave a weak smile and sighed before he sat up, grabbing a cigarette from off the bedside table and lit it, taking a drag.

Brian repositioned himself so he was sitting next to him now, their legs barely touching.

“Are you afraid they’ll be upset and kick you out of the band?”

If Roger was honest, that _was_ one of his concerns. He had just gotten his drumming mojo back, and it’d be a waste if he was no longer able to play anymore. Even though he was worried about this, it wasn’t his main concern.

He shook his head. “Not really.”

“What is it then, Rog? You can tell me.”

Roger took another drag before he held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds and then exhaled. He looked over at him. “They’re going to… fucking hate me, Bri. It’s only been a week and I’ve already fucked so many things up and this will just be something else on top of it all. It could potentially tear apart the band if his doesn’t go well between us, and they’ll know that. They could lose more than just a drummer; they could lose a guitarist as well.”

Brian shook his head but there was an anxiety in his eyes. “No, that’s not going to happen. They’re not going to care about it. They care about you, about me. They’ll be fine with it, Rog.”

“You promise?” Roger asked challengingly now, knowing that his friend couldn’t promise that. When he saw Brian wet his lips, he continued talking. “I want us to do whatever it is we’re doing together because… it makes me feel good, but I don’t want to do it if it’s going to put you at risk of being thrown out of the band.”

“You’re being ridiculous, Roger,” Brian shook his head, smirking weakly. “It’ll be okay. You don’t have to be there. I’ll talk to them, okay?”

The drummer breathed a sigh of relief now before taking another drag and nodded, not about to fight it. He really didn’t want to be out there when the topic was being discussed, even if it was about him.

“They’re both awake now,” Brian said, rubbing his eyes still a bit sleepily, “so I’m going to go and talk to them now, okay?”

Roger nodded timidly before he put his cigarette out. “Good luck, mate.’

Brian chuckled and then walked out to the living room, closing the bedroom door behind him. He saw John and Freddie sipping coffee and talking, apparently in a good mood. Maybe it was a good time to tell them.

“Good morning, darling…”

“Morning, Brian.”

Brian smiled and nodded before he sat down at the table, not bothering to grab coffee. “Morning. Mind if I… talk to you guys about something for a minute?”

His serious voice made both men look up at him with almost worried eyes. Freddie straightened his back and nodded.

“Of course, darling. What is it?”

Brian took a deep breath silently before he cleared his throat. “So… Rog and I are… together.” He figured it’d be best if he could get that out in the open first and foremost before he went into specifics.

The confession hung in the air for several moments like thick molasses and Brian felt his heart stop in his chest.

Then Freddie started laughing, and John joined in, chuckling. Brian watched them laugh and he supposed in another world, it might be a funny thing to admit to them despite Roger’s personality. He wasn’t laughing right now though and he looked at them deliberately, making them cease their laughter now.

“You’re serious, dear?” Freddie asked in shock and surprise. “How did this come about, Brian?”

The guitarist shrugged. “I’ve sort of… had a crush on him for a while, since about a year… but he was always with someone else that I never really h-had a chance to ask him out.”

John was rubbing his chin now, looking at Brian. “Are you sure this is a good idea right now? I mean, the timing couldn’t be worse, right?”

John’s statement baffled the older man and he looked at him questioningly. “How so?”

“He just got out of the hospital a week ago after he nearly died. He’s lost his memory, Brian. Do you really believe it’s a good time to start hooking up with him? I mean, this _is_ consensual, isn’t it? He realizes what you two are? Your intentions and feelings?”

Brian was starting to get frustrated but there was a small part of him that was telling him John had a decent point. Maybe he was moving things too fast, even if all they did was kiss. Roger shouldn’t be in a relationship right now; he should be trying to get his life back on track again.

“Of course it’s consensual, John! You really believe I’d do things against his will? Do you think I’d take advantage of him like that?” He knew he sounded defensive, but it was only because he was defensive.

Freddie reached over and placed his hand on Brian’s arm comfortingly. “All Deaky’s saying is that perhaps it isn’t a good idea to be doing those types of things with him right now, darling. Maybe it’s simply too soon. He needs time to remember who he is and what he does. He needs time to be Roger again.”

Brian looked away, retracting his arm away from the singer. He rested his chin on his hand. “I don’t want things with him. I-I won’t, unless he wants it too.”

John and Freddie exchange uneasy looks at each other before John spoke. “I don’t think it’s good for the band, Brian. This is… a ticking bomb about to go off, and if anything happens, Freddie and I will be the ones catching the shrapnel.”

Freddie looked like he also agreed because he didn’t say anything, which just made Brian a bit more frustrated.

How could Roger had been right about how they’d react? He didn’t remember them. It wasn’t fair that he knew them better than Brian did. He was at a loss.

“Just think about what you’re doing, Brian,” Freddie said gently, his eyes soft. “If not for the band’s sake, then for Rog’s. He’s still delicate right now, dear.”

Brian nodded, finished discussing this anymore. He felt like if he did continue, then he’d be flipping their coffee in their faces in anger. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath before he went back to the bedroom.

He opened the door and saw Roger nearly fall out, tears running freely down his cheeks.

 Brian’s heart broke in half seeing his friend like this, unsure when he had last seen the drummer cry recently. He gently guided him back into the bedroom so he could close the door, allowing the two of them privacy from the others.

He knelt down in front of him and searched his face fearfully. “What’s wrong? What happened, Rog?”

The blonde looked ashamed that he was crying and he roughly wiped his face on his sleeve before he sniffled. “Y-You’re going to break t-this off with me. Y-You don’t want to be with me a-anymore.”

Brian shook his head quickly to let his friend know that it wasn’t true. He placed his friend’s face in his hands and caressed him again. “Listen to me, Rog. I’m not breaking this off with you, I don’t care what they said. I’ve known you a lot longer than they have, and they don’t know you like I do. I still want to be with you, whatever way that might be, okay?”

Roger nodded his head but didn’t look like he believed him. He let out a soft sob.

Brian wrapped his arms around the younger man, holding him close and felt him hug him back tightly. He gently rocked him back and forth. “You come first with me, Rog. Always. They’ll always be our friends but we have a closer connection to each other than to them,” he said tenderly. “The only way I wouldn’t want us to be together, is if you said you didn’t. I don’t want this to be one-sided. If you don’t want this anymore, then I can rein myself and my feelings back in and we can go back to just being friends.”

Roger nodded against him in understanding, his body trembling a little against Brian’s as he hiccupped. “I-I still want t-this.”

His words made Brian smile and warmth spread through him. “Good, I do as well. We’re just going to ignore them, okay? This is going to be a bit more difficult than I thought it would with them, but… we’ll all get through this together. I promise. Just like we got through this before, with Freddie and you.”

This made the drummer pull himself together and he wiped his eyes before looking up at Brian. “What happened with Freddie and me before?”

Brian bit his lip at the memory. It hadn’t been _too_ horrible but it was still a mess nonetheless at the time, albeit it temporary. He interlocked his fingers with Roger and sat down beside him.

“You and Freddie started arguing about one of your songs and it got pretty ugly. It didn’t come to blows, but… you wouldn’t talk to him for weeks, and both of you went through me to talk to each other. Finally, I made him agree to your song to put it on the album and then two of you made up again.”

Roger took this in, still unable to fathom how distant he seemed to be from the singer. Freddie had been nothing but nice to him since he got out of the hospital, at least he thought so until today. They didn’t like that Brian and him were together, and now it felt like he was tearing the band apart.

He leaned against him and felt Brian put his arms around him, holding him close. “Don’t worry about it, mate. It’ll be all right.”

Roger nodded silently, hoping the other man was right. He could feel a sadness creeping in, though; the last thing he had ever wanted to do was tear all them away from each other and couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been better if he hadn’t survived the accident after all.


	6. polaroids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to do a lot of digging around online for this chapter, so these pictures are real but I made up the reasoning behind some of them for the sake of this story. 
> 
> Also, sorry for the short chapter but I'll make up for it in the next one. As always, comments are encouraged and loved!

**.    .    .**

  
Roger was really not looking forward to the rest of the day and wanted nothing more than to hide away the bedroom he shared with Brian, under the covers, but the guitarist could see the sadness inside of him.

He gently placed his head against Roger’s and talked in a soft whisper. “Why don’t you go take a warm shower and relax and then come out to the kitchen for some coffee when you’re ready, yeah?”

The other man wanted to argue and crawl under the blankets regardless, but there was something about the older man’s gentle tone that made his heart grow inside of his chest and his anxiety dissipate. He nodded reluctantly and felt him plant a soft kiss on his forehead before he helped him back onto his feet.

“Good man,” Roger gave him an encouraging smile. “I’ll see you in a bit.” He watched Roger nod and give a small smile before he walked out and headed towards the bathroom.

When he heard the door close, he walked out to where the other two men sat on the couch, drinking tea and eating toast and stood in front of them with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Yes, Brian?” Freddie asked expectantly, looking up at him. “Is something the matter, darling?”

The guitarist tongued his cheek. “Oh no, not a thing. I just thought you’d be happy for us is all. Instead, all you have are reasons why we shouldn’t be together.”

Freddie looked a bit nervous as he shifted position on the couch. “I just… don’t think it’s the right time, dear.”

“The right time for what, exactly?”

Freddie looked over at John for aid, and the bassist cleared his throat uneasily.

“He means… a relationship, Brian.”

Brian straightened his back and threw up his arms. “Really? Roger almost _died_ in a car accident a week ago and I almost lost my best mate forever. I’d say it’s the perfect time.”

The two men were quiet for a few moments before Freddie spoke again.

“Are you sure that you’re not with him because you feel guilty about the accident, Brian?” The singer asked carefully. “You _did_ leave him there and he drove home drunk.”

The comment made his stomach churn with nausea being reminded once again. He sighed heavily and looked away before he swallowed hard and looked back at them.

“Wow, thanks for reminding me about that,” he replied sarcastically. “I _do_ feel guilty, Fred. I feel guiltier about that than… either of you will ever understand, but that’s not why I’m with Rog. I’m with him because I love him, and… I’ve always loved him.”

Freddie nodded sympathetically but there was a hesitation in his eyes. “I understand that, darling, I really do, but… John and I just think it might be a bit too soon. Roger barely even knows who he is anymore. Do you really think he’s ready for a full on relationship so soon?”

It was a legit question but Brian was starting to feel anger under his skin. He took a deep breath and shook it away the best he could; Roger was supposed to be the one who was always angry, not him. It was like the accident switched their temperaments and he had ended up with his.

“He’s remembering things all the time, though, Freddie. He remembered the night of the accident that we had a fight… he remembers how to drum, he’s remembered the important bits.”

“That’s wonderful, dear,” Freddie said delicately now. “Don’t you think it’s only a matter of time when he remembers the worse bits, though? You had a fight, yes, but he still doesn’t remember the kind of person he used to be, does he? He’s not himself.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing!” Brian spoke loudly now before he forced his voice back down again. “He was an absolute prick before, you said it yourself! Isn’t it a good thing that he’s changed?”

Freddie looked over at John who looked down at his hands, refusing to help Freddie make his point anymore. The singer sighed and looked up at Brian again. “Perhaps, but I just think you’re making a mistake, that’s all.”

It had been a mistake telling Freddie and John about their new relationship, and now he wished he could take it all back, except the part with Roger. It had only been an hour and it was already tearing the band apart. He ran a hand through his hair before he walked away from them and into the kitchen to wait for his friend, and now boyfriend. He didn’t have to wait too long, since Roger walked in about ten minutes later, fully clothed and looking more like himself, except for his red eyes.

His eyes were glassy again, as if he had been crying in the shower, and that thought broke Brian’s heart. He saw the drummer grab a cup and pour himself coffee but he looked so delicate that he was almost afraid to touch him, out of fear the man might break down again.

“You all right?” He asked softly, searching Roger’s face. When the man didn’t answer him, he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Rog?”

“Hm?” Roger looked almost startled as he looked over at Brian. “No, I’m fine.” He sipped his coffee but he looked lost in his own world.

Watching him made him have a bad feeling. Roger was acting different now, more different anyway, and it unnerved Brian. “They’ll get used to us… this isn’t your fault, you know, their reaction? That’s on them, not us.”

Roger nodded but he didn’t look uneasy more at ease. Instead, he looked more like the old Roger: angry and frustrated.

“I told you,” he said bitterly now. “Didn’t I? I told you how they’d react and you didn’t believe me.”

Brian bit his lip, nodding. “I know you did, Rog. What do you want me to say?” He asked helplessly. “That you were right? I know you were.” He didn’t want to say the other part of what he was thinking because he knew it would come out mean.

“You should’ve kept it between us,” Roger lit up a cigarette and leaned against the counter, his hand still wrapped up around his coffee as he took a drag. “I told you not to tell them.”

Brian nodded again and Roger felt bad about how upset the guitarist looked; he wasn’t doing him any favors telling him ‘I told you so.’ He couldn’t help but feel bitter and angry about the situation though. He took another drag, willing the nicotine to help tone himself down but between that and the coffee he was feeling jittery.

Brian moved closer to Rog so they were inches apart. “I’m sorry, Rog. I should’ve listened to you and I regret telling them, but… if we had kept it a secret, it would’ve been worse. We’ve known each other for a long time, all of us, and the last thing this band needs are secrets.”

“I feel like all you have are secrets from me,” Rogers let slip suddenly and then took a shaky breath, realizing how bad that sounded now. He looked like he wanted to say more and Brian looked at him expectantly.

“What is it, Roger?” Brian bit his lip. “What were you going to say?”

The drummer shook his head now, attempting to wave it all off before he inhaled again, exhaling through his nose. He looked more like the original Roger than Brian cared for now. He thought he’d be relieved to see him go back to his old behaviors again, but it just made him feel more nervous.

“No,” Brian urged gently, a softness in his voice. “What is it? I don’t want any secrets between us, love.”

Roger looked up at him in surprise at the pet name and his face softened. He swallowed hard and sighed. “I just feel… like because I don’t know all of you anymore, and you know everything about me still, it’s like you all are keeping secrets from me now. Like…” he sighed again, struggling to put his thoughts into words as a headache started to form.

“It’s all right,” Brian cooed. “Just take your time, Rog.”

The drummer nodded and took another drag before he put it out and shifted his weight. “Like you know how I used to be, who I was, who I… dated, how I acted, everything. You knew everything about me, and now I don’t even know myself anymore. You all don’t tell me anything except for when I have a flashback or whatever.” There were tears in his eyes again.

Brian swallowed back the lump he felt in his throat at seeing his friend’s solemn eyes. “What is it you want to know? Ask me and I’ll tell you, Roger. I’m not keeping secrets from you. I was just… trying to wait until you asked. I didn’t want to lay it all on you at once.”

Roger’s brows knitted together and he searched Brian’s eyes almost suspiciously. “R-Really? You’d… you’d tell me anything I asked?”

Brian could see that this was going to be a long day, not in a bad way, of course. He wanted Roger to know everything and he hadn’t been lying when he said he’d tell him anything he wanted to know. He just wanted the two of them to be comfortable instead of stuck in the kitchen all day.

He gave the blonde a loving smile and nodded. “That’s right; I will. Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable on our bed and I’ll bring in some more coffee and some breakfast in, all right? Settle in.”

Roger smiled a little, looking a bit relieved, and nodded. “Yeah, all right.” He went back to the bedroom and wiped his eyes roughly, feeling silly now for wanting to cry. He had been so angry and he had assumed that Brian wouldn’t have even offered to tell him anything.

He sat on the bed and waited until Brian came in with two plates of toast and two more cups of coffee on a tray. He lay it on the bed as well but then walked over to Roger’s closet and started to dig stuff.

“What are you doing again? I thought you were going to tell me things.”

“I am,” Brian replied, throwing pieces of Roger’s clothing behind him. “I have to get through your Indiana Jones temple of clothes first to get what I’m looking for, apparently.”

Roger smiled at himself at his friend’s comment. “Was I always a messy person, then?”

“Yes, Rog, you were. Ever since we first moved in together,” Brian chuckled, throwing another shirt off to the side. “You never picked up after yourself and I remember the first time I asked you to do laundry, you turned to me and you said ‘how?’ I looked at you, dumbfounded, and went ‘how what?’ and you said, ‘how do I do laundry?’ It was incredible.”

Roger snickered at the story. It was interesting to hear stories about him, to him. It was like he was a ghost hearing from others about his living self.

“A-ha! Here it is,” Brian exclaimed from halfway inside the closet. He stood up with a large shoebox and brought it over to the bed before he sat down beside Roger and opened the top. “These are pictures of you, of your family, of us… I think these will help you remember things more than I could just by telling you about them.”

Roger glanced at the box, intrigued. “Yeah?”

Brian nodded and smiled as he moved closer before he took out a polaroid of a man with dark hair and a woman with blonde hair and in the middle stood a school aged boy with his arms wrapped around both of them. He held it in the middle so the drummer could see it too.

“Those would be your parents and you.” He watched as Roger took the photograph, his breathing hitched and looked at the photo intently.

“My parents,” he whispered, and then looked over at Brian suddenly. “D-Did… did they come visit?”

Brian felt his heart breaking again. He must not have remembered him telling Roger about them in the hospital. He chewed on his lip and shook his head before he anxiously scratched his chin. “Err… no, you had a falling out with them when… when you told him about yourself.”

At first, Roger’s brows came together in confusion but then comprehension took over and spread throughout his face. He looked down and nodded before he threw the picture onto the bed, fighting the urge to burn it.

_Why wouldn’t these people still love the boy they raised, no matter what his sexual preference was?_

Brian took out another picture of a much younger Roger sat behind a much smaller drum kit than the one he had now. He moved it towards his friend. “Take a guess who that is, eh?” He smirked.

The blonde chuckled now and took the picture from him, admiring it with a grin on his face. “So that’s young me.”

Brian nodded. “Yep, not much has changed though,” he grabbed another polaroid and this time it was one of all of them together, with everyone sitting except for John who was standing behind them. “My mum took this one of all of us one summer.”

Roger took this picture from him and examined it before he laughed softly. “Deaky’s the only one looking at the camera. What were the rest of us looking at?” He pointed to the three of them in front looking off into the distance.

Brian shook his head, also laughing. “I honestly have no idea, actually.”

This made Roger laugh harder now and he was grinning from ear to ear.

Brian grabbed another one and this time it just had the two of them in it, Roger facing towards Brian while the latter man was looking at the camera and the both of them were eating McDonalds while sitting on a stage.

“What about this one?” Roger asked, looking at the photo and smiling to himself.

“Oh, a roadie must have taken this one, which means you stole it, of course,” Brian chuckled. “We were doing rehearsals here on our American tour and it was lasting forever so we grabbed dinner.”

Roger took another one out of the box himself and examined it, smiling still. They were on a bus and they were all sitting in different aisles of the bus. “Wait, where the hell am I? This one is just of you guys.”

Brian chuckled and pointed to the upper part of the picture. “Sorry, mate. You were overtired and miffed at us so you climbed on top and became luggage.”

Roger chuckled, seeing his mop of blonde hair on the luggage rack now. “Oh, right. Well, sounds like me, I suppose. When was this?” He glanced over at Brian.

The guitarist smiled at him. “This was… two years ago during our tour of Japan.”

“Why are you all sitting so far away from each other?”

Brian shrugged. “I think it was just because we had gotten off of a long flight at the time and we were just sick of being around each other at that point.”

Roger nodded now in understanding and started to go through the box himself, glancing at the different polaroids inside until he came upon three different pictures with himself with a different woman in each one.

He pointed to the one of him and a woman standing next to each other, the woman having middle, shoulder-length brown hair. “W-Who’s this one?”

Brian was looking a bit uneasy now. “That would be Josephine Morris, one of your ex-girlfriends.”

“When did I get with her?”

Brian bit his lip in thought and looked away, as if the ceiling had the answer before he looking back at Roger. “’68, I believe.”

“And when we broke up?”

“Last year,” Brian answered. “It was a pretty messy breakup too, if I recall.”

The drummer’s jaw dropped. “Eight years? Are you joking? Six years and I can’t remember any of it?” He put his fingers through his hair before he pointed to the other two pictures. “And them?”

Brian pointed to the woman with short blonde hair. “That’s Debbie, but… you haven’t told us a lot about that relationship because… this one,” he pointed to a picture of a long haired woman with dark hair who was smiling towards someone off camera. “This one is your current girlfriend, Dominque.”

Roger’s head was spinning. _He was seeing someone else while he was with another woman? How could he handle that?_

Brian could see the conflict written on the drummer’s face and he wrapped an arm around him before gently pulling him against him and kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry. It’s a lot to take in, I know it is, Rog, but don’t overthink all of this, yeah? This doesn’t have to be the person you are now. You can just… be you. You don’t have to be this other Roger, if you don’t want to be.”

Roger nodded, feeling some comfort in his words. He melted against the older man’s side before he sat up again and grabbed all the pictures of his parents in his hand. He stood up and started towards the kitchen without looking at the guitarist.

Brian stood up quickly and followed him out. “Roger, what are you doing?”

Roger grabbed a large bowl and then put the pictures inside of it before he grabbed his lighter and ignited it. This made the other two men quickly stand up and walk over to their friend with worried eyes.

Brian swiftly grabbed Roger’s wrist with his hand and looked at him with cautious eyes. “Rog, are you sure you want to do that?”

The younger man thought about it for a moment before he nodded, swallowing hard. _If his parents couldn’t be bothered to see him at the hospital and basically disown him as their son, why should he care about them?_

Brian nodded now and let go of his wrist. They all looked on as Roger lit one of the polaroids in the bowl on fire and watched as it caught on to the other two pictures, warping all of their faces under there was nothing left.

When none of their faces could be seen anymore, Brian grabbed a small glass of water and poured it in the bowl over the fire to put it out.

“Well, that was dramatic,” Freddie declared.

John and Brian both looked over at the singer in amusement, Brian’s brows raised. “You’d know about being dramatic.”

“Oh _do_ shut up now, darling.”

The other men chuckled softly, Roger unable to stop himself as well. Even when he felt angry, these men still proved to be able to calm him down a little. Maybe he just needed to do what Brian told him and ignore how Freddie and John felt about their relationship, and just focus on the guitarist.

But first, he needed to end the relationship he was still technically in.


	7. nostalgia

**.    .    .**

“Get that out of your system all right?” Brian asked, feeling both parts heartbreak and confusion for the man he called his boyfriend now.

Roger glanced up at him after ripping his eyes away from the ashes in the bowl. “Yeah, I did, actually.”

“Excellent. So, now what are you going to do, Rog?”

He felt like a man on a mission as thoughts raced through his head. He felt the need to fix the way he was currently feeling. It felt more like an instinct than anything. Maybe it was an impulse from how he used to be before the accident.

When he looked at Brian, that impulse simply grew stronger. “I need to go see…” he trailed off and groaned, frustrated he couldn’t remember his own girlfriend’s name.

“Dominique?” Brian offered helpfully, searching Roger’s face.

“Yes! That’s her. I need to go see Dominique and break it off with her now. Right now…” He grabbed his jacket and started towards the front door when he felt a gentle hand on his arm.

Brian had hurried over to him, feeling a knot in his stomach when he touched the drummer’s arm. “Rog, do you really think that’s a good idea, mate? I mean, if she didn’t come to the hospital, then I’d say that you’re probably already well broken up, yeah?”

He shook his head. For some reason, he wanted to believe that this Dominique was a good person. “She probably just… didn’t know about the accident. Did you guys tell her?”

“She knew, Roger,” he insisted, searching his eyes. “I-I’m sorry, but… I had called her when you were out Emergency and she didn’t come down, but she knew.”

He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a surge of anger hitting him again. He grabbed his cigarettes and shoved them into his pockets. “Where does she live?”

Brian bit his lip and sighed. “I don’t think you should go there, Rog.”

“Why not?” Roger turned to him almost challengingly. “You know something I don’t? Actually, no. Don’t answer that; of course you know things I don’t. Just… just take me there, Bri. Please.”

The guitarist ran a hand through his mop of hair. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to go see her so badly, Rog?” Brian wasn’t feeling jealous, because he knew that whatever reason Roger wanted to go see her wasn’t going to be good. He wasn’t worried about him getting back together with her.

Roger put his shoes on. “Because we’re together now,” he said somewhat quietly as Freddie and John talked to each other from the kitchen. “I shouldn’t be with both of you, right? I’d rather be with you.”

“So call her, like you’d usually do.”

Roger looked at him in surprise, his eyebrows raised. “Really? I’d breakup over the phone? Wow, I was a major prick before, wasn’t I? Isn’t it better to do it in person?”

Brian rubbed his neck, feeling conflicted. “I suppose, but I just think that it can wait, can’t it? Do you really need to do this right this instant?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, I do, actually, Brian. Take me there.” It wasn’t him pleading anymore; it had become a demand and Brian could hear the edge to his voice. It threw him back again to the old Rog and he felt a mixture of nostalgia and sadness.

He looked over at Freddie and John. “We’ll be back soon.” He grabbed his van keys and got into the vehicle with Roger before they started driving towards the direction of Dominique’s house about fifteen minutes away.

“Have I… been there a lot?” Roger asked, feeling a bit nervous now.

Brian nodded, glancing over at him. “Yes, Rog. You have. Are you positive you want to do this? I mean, I know how you are, or… were, I guess,  and I’m… I’m perfectly fine with you being with both of us if… if you’re not a hundred percent sure about yourself just yet. I’m willing to give you time to figure it out.”

Roger swallowed hard at the offer. It may be smarter to do it that way, but he hadn’t even seen her yet since the hospital. He wanted to be sure that Brian was what he wanted.

“Just… let me do it my way. I need to do something, and… I just… want you here with me, okay?”

Brian wasn’t sure what Roger was up to but he’d be damned if he was just going to drop the drummer off and leave him there. “Yeah, I’m here for you, Rog. Whatever you need from me.”

“Good. T-Thank you.”

They pulled up to a nice looking flat a bit later and Brian shut off the engine and turned to Roger who was looking anxious.

“Do you want me to come inside with you?” He searched Roger’s face.

The younger man looked deep in thought but he shook his head. “N-No, it’s fine. I can do this on my own. I think I need to.”

Brian placed a hand on his shoulder and gently caressed it.

“You do what you need to do, and I’ll be right here when you’re done. I’m not leaving you, all right?”

Roger nodded now and gave him a small smile. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.” He waited for Brian to let go of him and when he did, he opened the van door, stepped outside and then turned back to Brian. “What room is it?”

“4B. 2nd floor.”

“Right, okay.” He walked inside just as it started to rain and went up to the second floor before looking for the fourth door. When he found it, he could hear giggling and moans coming from inside. His stomach knotted up and he raised a closed fist to knock on the door.

He heard a yelp and then a few minutes later, he saw a beautiful woman open up the door with a sheet wrapped around her body and a surprised look on her face.

“R-Roger? What… umm… w-what are you doing here?”

He looked at her in shock and then noticed how she was trying to make herself bigger to cover whatever was behind her. He kicked the door open farther until it hit the wall and bounced off a little before he took a step inside and peered in.

Standing nearly naked now, seeing Roger and trying to cover himself up quickly, was a taller, muscular man who was about his age. He clenched his jaw even though he wasn’t sure where the rage inside of him was coming from. He swallowed hard, feeling a thousand emotions suddenly when he looked at her.

As soon as he did look back at her, he saw flashes in his mind again:

_Flashes of his arm around her in different bars and gig venues. Both of them kissing and cuddling together._

_Flashes of them in bed, making love with candles lit around them._

_Deep feelings of love and passion filled him up before they were replaced with hurt and anger. Flashes of the two of them fighting and arguing, and then more of them making love again before cuddling afterwards in the glow of the moonlight through the window._

Roger found him stumbling a bit before he put his arm out quickly to steady himself and then looked at Dominique with a newfound anger but he mostly felt hurt and betrayal.

“Real nice, Dom. Really… tell me, is this what you were doing when I was in the hospital after my accident?” Roger was struggling to keep his cool but inside he was clawing the skin off his muscles.

She was looking ashamed now. “I thought you… I didn’t think you were going to m-make it, Roger. I was beside myself when Brian told me your condition.”

“So, you thought that I was going to croak, and you decided it was a good idea to start seeing other people, then? Is that it?”

She ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Roger.”

He looked away from her, not wanting her to see the angry tears in his eyes but his anger suddenly exploded and he hit the door hard with his palm before he turned around quickly and stormed back outside where the rain had begun to pour even harder than before.

He was breathing heavy as he made his way to the van and as soon as he got inside, he started hitting and punching anything he could find as hard as he could repeatedly.

“FUCK! FUCK IT!” he screamed, feeling the anger pulsating through his veins now, followed not far behind from the unexplainable hurt that was drowning him now.

It was as if the flashbacks had triggered something inside of him that made him remember everything he felt when he was with her, and it was as if he had never been in the accident. The pain he was feeling now was debilitating.

“Roger! ROG!” Brian yelled, trying to reach out and grab his wrists to stop him from hurting himself on the glove box and the door.

When he had gotten control of the drummer, he noticed that the man was crying and his knuckles were bloody and bruising. He turned to him so his whole body was facing Roger and gently placed his hands on his knees.

“D-Did you know…?” Roger whimpered now.

“What?”

“Did you bloody know about them?! Is that why you didn’t want me to see her? Fuck, Bri… did you want me to catch them in the act?”

Brian’s heart sunk now a he figured out what was wrong. He shook his head automatically. “No. I swear, Rog. I didn’t know about that. I didn’t know she was doing that,” His brows came together at the other man but didn’t know why he was feeling so broken up about it and couldn’t stop the sharp jealousy pains that were hitting his stomach now like lightning bolts.

“I didn’t want you to go because I didn’t think she was worth seeing,” the guitarist admitted. “When she didn’t come to visit you last week, I really thought maybe she was just upset with grief but…” he trailed off, sighing before he went quiet.

Roger roughly wiped his face and tried to pull himself together but it took him forever. He pulled his legs into his body on the seat and leaned against the door, half covering his red and swollen face. He shouldn’t feel this way; not when he loved Brian.

_He didn’t love Dominique, or at least he didn’t anymore. So why the fuck was he so broken up about it?_

Brian chewed on his lip, not liking how quiet Roger had become suddenly. He gently caressed the man’s knee. “I’m really sorry, Rog. I am… I promise you that I honestly didn’t know about it.”

“J-just start the van,” Roger said quietly, shakily. “I just… want t-to go back home.”

The older man thought about taking him somewhere else besides the flat but he couldn’t think of anywhere where they could talk privately. He just nodded and turned back around in his seat before starting the van back up and began to drive back towards the flat.

It was a quiet ride back to their place. The only sounds that could be heard was the sound of the heavy rain as it came down in sheets. When they arrived home, he shut off the van and turned to Roger again but was met with an empty seat when the drummer got out and stormed inside quickly.

Roger didn’t want to talk about what he had saw inside Dominique’s flat. He just wanted to be alone. He walked into the bedroom and slammed it closed before he crawled onto the bed and under the comforter in an attempt to hide away from the world.

He wasn’t surprised when about five minutes later, he heard footsteps come in and close the door behind them. Then the bed shifted on his right side and he heard a voice.

“Roger, talk to me,” Brian practically begged. “Please. What happened in there?” When his friend didn’t say anything, he added, “You don’t need to tell me details, but… please, tell me something.”

Roger curled into himself, feeling glad that the other man couldn’t see him as he felt more tears running down his cheeks. Somehow, being ‘invisible’ to him made him feel braver and he found his voice. He swallowed hard.

“I-I had a flashback in her flat, Bri,” he answered weakly. “I… I saw us, me and her, I mean. I saw Dominique and me together, before, and… it all just came rushing back to me. I felt all these… emotions that I didn’t know I had.”

Brian bit his lip now and placed a hand on the lump on the bed that he knew was Roger’s back. “I’m sorry, Rog.”

“Thanks,” the blonde mumbled.

“So what was her excuse, for not coming to visit you at the hospital?” He felt like he knew already, but he wanted to hear it from Roger’s mouth.

“She said that… she didn’t think t-that I was going to make it,” he sighed.

Brian gently lifted up the comforter to look at Roger and was glad when the other man didn’t cover himself back up to hide. He lay down beside him but then a thought crossed his mind and he started to get nervous. He knew what the right thing to do was, though, even if it would hurt him to say the words aloud.

“I think you should take some time to yourself to think about what you want, Roger. You got your memories back about her, and now you’re in pain. I think maybe we should… take a break so you can think about things.”

Roger tensed a little and turned to look at Brian. “Are you breaking up with me too? You’re fucking kidding.”

“This is a unique situation, Rog. You’re having flashbacks nearly every day and you’re remembering your old self, and who used to be, who you used to be with and everything you felt with them,” Brian swallowed hard. “This isn’t us breaking up. It’s us just taking a few days to think our shit out.”

Roger shook his head now. “I don’t need to think about anything, Brian. I want to be with you.”

“You’re hurting right now. You’re in pain.”

The drummer pushed back tears in his eyes and sat up now before he looked at him. “I-I’m fine. I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with you. She doesn’t mean anything to me, not anymore! She was sleeping with someone else!”

Brian felt a familiar ache in his chest as he looked at the younger man and felt his heart breaking again. He thumbed his chin in thought. He didn’t want to take advantage of his friend but he also didn’t want to be alone. He searched Roger’s eyes.

“Are you sure?”

Roger nodded quickly. “Yes, Bri. I’m sure. I just want to be with you.”

The other man nodded now and smiled before he wrapped his arms around Roger’s body and then held him close against him, closing his eyes as he breathed in the other man.

“You smell like cigarettes,” Brian chuckled. “I swear you smoke like a chimney, Rog.”

Roger snickered weakly before he buried his head in his boyfriend’s chest. “Did I always used to smoke a lot, before the accident?”

“Yeah, you did. I hated it,” Brian laughed again, kissing Roger’s hair. “I don’t think I mind it so much anymore, though. It means that you’re still alive and here with me.”

Roger smiled to himself and relaxed against him. He didn’t ever want to get up again. “You smell like the rain.”

“Rain doesn’t smell like anything, Rog.”

The drummer leaned back and moved onto his back before he gently pulled Brian closer to him. “It does, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Brian smirked, placing his arm across Roger’s hips. “What does it smell like to you?”

Roger bit his lip in thought.

“I can’t explain it, but it _does_ smell like something. It smells… crisp, I think.” Roger shrugged and placed his hand on top of Brian’s.

The older man laughed softly before he shook his head. The two of them watched each other with loving eyes before Roger lifted his head up slightly and pressed his lips against Brian’s. The guitarist kissed him back with ferocity and passion, wrapping his arm around Roger as their bodies moved closer to each other.

Brian felt guilty for doing this so soon after Roger’s break up with Dominique but he also felt like the two men deserved this. They deserved happiness after all of the pain they had gone through together. This had been a long time coming, in hindsight.

Roger felt Brian’s hand creep under his shirt as they made out and caress his skin that was there. His touch made him shiver, and it made the drummer deepen their kiss. He felt his heart racing uncontrollably in his chest and he felt himself short on breath when they parted. He smiled at the other man and ran his fingers through Brian’s dark curls.

He bit his lip a bit anxiously, seeing the hunger in the man’s eyes. “D-Do you want to…?” he trailed off.

Brian couldn’t deny the feeling in his pants right now and he was sure that Roger felt it as well but seeing the lack of enthusiasm on the blonde’s face made that feeling disappear pretty quickly. “Only if you want to as well.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said quietly, his voice void of excitement or real consent.

Brian sighed patiently and sat up, looking down at him. “I don’t want to do this unless you actually want to, Roger. I have no expectations of you, or… this. I’ll love you either way, but a ‘yeah, sure’ isn’t enough consent for me, I’m afraid. That’s fine though, really. We should take this slow between us anyway, yeah?”

Roger looked somewhat relieved now and he also sighed before he nodded in agreement and gave a small, grateful smile. “Right.”

Brian ran his fingers through Roger’s hair now affectionately. “Don’t worry, we’ll have other opportunities, and we have lots of time.”

His words seemed to put Roger even more at ease and once again, the drummer nodded. The two curled up against each other now and the younger man closed his eyes as Brian held him close, breathing him in again. The two of them fell asleep like that, and Brian was never happier.

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

**  
** When they woke up again, it was dark outside. The two of them rubbed their eyes sleepily before sitting up.

Then they heard the deep sound of the bass in the living room and the feedback of things being plugged into amps. Roger groaned and stood up before he led them out to the living room to see Freddie and John both setting up equipment.

“ _Finally_! We thought you two were never going to wake up…”

Brian looked over at Freddie. “How’d you know we were asleep?”

“We peeked in on you two, darling,” the singer answered as he ripped the mic from the stand forcefully, as if he had a grudge against it, and perhaps he did. “We were worried you two had suddenly died or something.”

“What are you doing? It’s nearly ten, Fred.”

John looked at Brian. “Freddie wanted to practice. Grab your guitar. We already set up Roger’s drum kit.”

Roger didn’t look amused and shook his head. “No, we’re not practicing. I don’t feel much in the mood for drumming tonight.”

“Well that’s too bad, Rog,” Freddie declared simply, shrugging. “You don’t have a choice. We need to practice because I received a phone call from John Reid earlier, and we have a show to do tomorrow, so… sit down.”

Roger looked over at Brian for help but he had already grabbed his guitar and shrugged helplessly at him. “If the show’s tomorrow, we probably should practice tonight. It’ll be your first show since the accident.”

“Wow, Bri,” he said sarcastically but with amusement in his voice. “Thank you so much for your help. You’re the oldest one here! You should be the one to have the final say on things like this.”

Freddie smirked in Roger’s direction. “He’s our guitarist, darling, not our father. Age is only a number when it comes to band members.”

“Brian! Come _on_ ,” Roger whined. “It’s late… I just want to sleep!”

Brian sighed with a smirk on his face before he reluctantly slung his guitar around himself and shrugged. “Freddie’s the boss. Sorry, Rog. Let’s just get it over with so we can all go to sleep.”

Roger groaned dramatically, once again reminding the older man of the old Rog. Brian thought for sure that he was going to also stomp his feet like a petulant child but to his surprise, he watched Roger finally get behind his drum kit and spin his drumsticks around his fingers like he used to.

The boys practiced until about eleven and then all dragged themselves to bed, Roger and Brian collapsing on the bed together and wrapping their arms around each other before falling asleep.


	8. first show

**.    .    .**

The next morning, nearly everyone slept in until one after the late night practice session, everyone save for Freddie, of course. When Roger and Brian got up together, they saw Freddie making a pot of afternoon coffee to help get everyone going.

Brian up and grabbed mugs for all of them before setting them by the coffee machine while it brewed. “How long have you been awake for, Freddie?”

The singer grinned. “Hours, darling. There’s no rest for the wicked, as they say.”

“Then you must be an insomniac,” Roger commented, to which Brian started laughing. “You’ve got to be utterly insane for making us practice so late!”

Freddie rolled his eyes and sighed before turning to the drummer. “Stop your whingeing, Rog. We have a gig tonight and we needed the practice.”

Roger turned to face him with irritation on his face. “That’s another thing! Why the hell would…” he winced, trying to remember the name.

“John Reid,” Brian offered up.

“Right, why the hell would John Reid call to remind you about a gig that was in less than a day! That’s ridiculous.”

Freddie started to look a bit guilty now. “Well, you see, Rog… he actually told me about it a few weeks ago and last night’s call was just to remind me about it.”

It was Brian’s turn to look mildly irritated now. “You’re joking. He called you about this gig three weeks ago and you only chose to tell us about it last night?”

The singer shrugged and looked bored the two of them. “It doesn’t matter, Brian…”

“It does, though!” The guitarist objected. “It does matter. We had three weeks to practice and we didn’t because we didn’t know about this show, Freddie! You didn’t tell us about it. That’s not what friends do! They tell each other things. You should’ve let us know about it ahead of time so we could’ve scheduled practices!”

The singer suddenly set his jaw and threw his arms up in the air dramatically. “What bloody difference does it even make now, darling? Anyway, he was in hospital last week, wasn’t he?" Freddie pointed over to Roger. "It’s not like we could’ve set up his drum kit right there for him to play while he healed up! Stop getting so upset about something so silly, Brian. It’s done.”

Brian took a deep breath to calm himself and was able to do when he felt a comforting hand on his back. He just nodded to Freddie and watched as the singer poured himself coffee and then disappeared into his room at the same time as John walked out to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he spoke tiredly.

Brian poured coffee for himself and for Roger before handing one of the cups over to the drummer. “Try afternoon, Deaky. It’s past one now.”

“Ah, right,” John nodded, pouring himself some coffee as well. He turned to look at the two of them and gave them a small smile.

Roger smiled weakly back but felt nervous. Brian must have felt his nervousness because he wrapped his arm around the blonde before clearing his throat, looking at John.

“Are we going to have a problem, John?” He asked in a friendly voice, keeping himself calm.

The bassist raised his eyebrows before he shook his head. “No, not at all. The more I think about it, the more I’m fine with you two being together. I think you’re good for Rog right now, Brian,” he said evenly. “Really.”

Brian relaxed now and smiled at his friend. “Not that I need it, but thank you for your approval.”

John chuckled and looked over at Roger, sipping his coffee. “How did yesterday go, by the way? At Dominque’s?”

The drummer visibly tensed and sighed, tonguing his cheek. “Turns out she’s a cheating whore, Deaky, but whatever. I’m over it now.” John gave him an apologetic look, to which Roger just weakly smiled reassuringly at him.

Everyone relaxed and then sat at the table. Brian clicked the radio on so they could listen to music while they hung out together.

Roger took a cigarette out of the package and placed it between his lips before lighting it. He sipped and smoked quietly before he looked at John, searching his face.

“What is it?” The younger man asked almost fearfully before taking another drink of his coffee.

Roger looked almost frustrated. “S-Sorry, Deaky. I’m just… trying to remember a memory with you in it. I still can’t… remember you.” His eyebrows knitted together in regret.

Brian reached over and gently caressed his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him.

John gave the drummer a smile and an easygoing shrug. “It’s all right, Roger. You’ve been through a lot and it’s normal for someone in your condition to not remember certain things or… or people. You’ve been remembering things right and left though since you left the hospital. I’m sure a memory with me or us will come to you eventually.”

Brian gave the bassist a grateful smile for giving Roger hope as the latter man nodded.

“Right, yeah. Hopefully.” He took a deep drag of his cigarette before he exhaled the smoke and ran a hand through his hair.

John looked at him curiously now. “Do you remember anything with Freddie?”

Roger thought for a moment. “I don’t know. It’s like,” he sighed as he tried to collect his mixed up thoughts. “It’s like pieces here and there, that don’t really make any sense. It’s hard to explain. Like… memories that I _think_ are true with him, but… the pieces don’t really fit right.”

John nodded in understanding. “Well, hopefully you’ll be able to remember him as well. I promise he wasn’t always the wanker you know now.”

Brian and Roger both laughed softly, the smoke exhaling from the drummer’s mouth after he had inhaled again, mid-smoke.

After a couple cups of coffee and some sandwiches, Freddie finally came out with a handful of papers in his hands and distributed them to each man before he leaned against the counter.

“This is the set list I’ve come up with for tonight. Let’s hear your thoughts on it, darlings.”

Their eyes scanned the list when Roger tensed up a little bit and felt his heart race in his chest. He tried to force himself to relax, leaning back in his seat as he took another drag to calm himself.

“Which one is ‘March of the Black Queen’?”

Brian, Freddie, and John all turned to look at Roger in surprise before Freddie started to sing some of the lyrics in an attempt to help Roger remember.

“You know the lyrics, dear. ‘Here comes the Black Queen, poking in the pile. Fie-fo the black Queen, marching single file… take this, take that, bring them down to size. March to the Black Queen’…”

Roger shook his head and shrugged. “I’m… sorry. I don’t remember that song, Freddie.”

Brian was looking worried now, afraid of an outburst from the singer at any minute when John spoke suddenly.

“We can replace it with something else, Fred. It’s a pretty long song anyway. If we’re doing Bohemian Rhapsody, then it’s going to be a really long night. Let’s do ‘Somebody to Love’ instead. It’s slightly shorter, and it’s one of our more well-known songs anyway,” John suggested.

Brian looked over at Freddie who thought about it for a few minutes and then finally nodded and crossed off the original song to replace it with ‘Somebody to Love.’ The others did the same as well and the guitarist breathed a sigh of relief.

“Do you remember that one, Rog?” Freddie asked now gently.

Roger nodded, unsure why he remembered some songs over others. “Yeah, I remember it.”

“Excellent,” Freddie gave him a patient smile now. “Then we’ll simply do that one instead. It’s settled then.”

Roger took one last drag before he snubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray, looking down the list of twelve songs, making sure he remembered the rest of them. It’d be embarrassing if they were playing and he couldn’t remember any of songs they had to play next.

He lit another cigarette and took a drag before he exhaled, running a hand through his hair anxiously. Freddie, John, and Brian exchanged glances at each other before Brian cleared his throat softly.

“Hey, you’re going to be great tonight, Rog,” he tried to reassure him. “There’s no reason to be nervous, love.”

Roger saw the other two tense a little at the pet name but he gave Brian a small smile, nodding in acknowledgement. He had to admit: it gave him a sick satisfaction to see Freddie and John wince at the two of them. Maybe that was a part of who he had been before.

“We should pack our things and head over there now, darlings,” Freddie declared, standing up.

John nodded and stood up before he walked over to his bass and began to put it back in its case and then took it out to the van. Brian and Roger both stood up but the drummer felt his hand on is shoulder before he gave him a warm smile.

“Why don’t you go help Deaky? I’ll bring out my guitar in a minute.”

Roger bit his lip but nodded, knowing that this meant that Brian wanted to talk to Freddie about something. He walked over as John came back inside and started to quietly help Roger with his drum kit. They both walked back outside to the van to pack it inside the vehicle and as they did this, Roger was getting antsy at John’s cold silence.

Finally, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He spun John around and looked at him. “Are you pissed off about something, Deaky? What did I do?”

John sighed and looked at his friend almost apologetically. He scratched his temple. “I’m not pissed off at you, Rog.”

“Fine, then what is it? Why’re you giving me the cold shoulder?”

John searched Roger’s face before softening. “I’m sorry, Roger. I just… I’m just worried about you. You and Brian are getting into a relationship a week after your accident, and it’s just…” he scoffed to himself, trying to find the right words.

“What?” Roger demanded. “Just what?”

John moved a little closer to Roger. “It just feels like maybe… Brian might be taking advantage of you? I don’t know, it just feels like you have a lot going on right now. You’re trying to adjust again and remember everything and I’m not sure if you should be getting into anything serious so soon.”

“I don’t believe this! You were fine with me going to see my girlfriend last night but suddenly, it’s ‘too soon’ that I’m with Brian! I didn’t want to say anything but I think you might be homophobic, Deaky. That’s what this whole thing is about!”

John shook his head quickly, with confidence. “No, Rog. That’s not what this is about, I promise. I have no problem with you, or Freddie, for that matter. I don’t care if all of you are gay! I just want you to be safe, Roger. That’s all.”

Roger looked at John as if the bassist had just grown antlers out of his head. “Are you serious right now? I _am_ safe. Do you think Brian’s trying to hurt me? He’s not taking advantage of me, John. I want this. I want… him.”

John put his hands up in surrender. “All right. I’m just trying to look out for you, mate. I apologize, Roger.”

Roger shook his head. Brian wouldn’t take advantage of him.

_Would he?_

No, of course he wouldn’t. He shook his head to make the thought disappear from his head but he couldn’t help but let it linger.

John was his mate too. Why would he lie to him? It wouldn’t benefit any of them.

He had finished stuffing the drums in the van when he heard Brian’s voice.

“Everything all right out here?”

Roger looked up and saw Brian glancing over at John who gave a hum of acknowledgement and nodded before going back inside rather quickly. The guitarist gave Roger a pointed, but soft look.

“Are you all right, Rog?”

The drummer smiled at Brian weakly before nodding. It wasn’t a good enough answer for the older man, though. “Are you sure?”

Roger chewed on his lip before taking another drag and exhaling away from Brian. He didn’t want to cause conflict between him and John, at least not so close to show time. Maybe he’d tell him after this show.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Come on, we should get ready, right?”

Brian gave him a loving smile and nodded. “Right.’

They went back inside to see Freddie freshly showered and changed and the rest of the men took turns doing the same until they were finally ready. Once they had all changed their clothes, they piled into the crowded van and headed towards the venue.

Freddie and John almost eagerly started grabbing instruments and started inside quickly to set up. Brian noticed this and looked worriedly in Roger’s direction before he helped Roger with the drum kit and walked inside the loud, well-lit club.

Most of the lights came from the stage, but they were bright yellow and orange colors that it seemed to light up the entire floor.

As they set up, Roger didn’t know if it was just him, but he could sense a tenseness between all of them. The energy felt odd and made him uncomfortable. He looked over at Brian who flashed a smile, putting the drummer’s mind at ease slightly.

They started tuning up, Roger hitting his cymbals lightly to work out his nerves, and then he heard Freddie welcoming the audience and strutting his stuff on stage. He felt unexplainable anger suddenly when he heard a couple people in the crowd laugh at the singer’s flamboyancy.

It was at that moment when he felt his mind get pulled in again into another flashback.

_“Look at that fuckin poof! He looks like he gets all his clothes out of his mum’s closet!”_

_“What a bum boy!”_

_The Roger in his flashback was standing beside a Freddie and he looked over at the guys before he took a drag off his cigarette and stormed over to the two taller men._

_“You got a problem with my mate?”_

_“Oh don’t tell me you’re one of them too…” the one man spoke before his friend laughed._

_Flashback Roger suddenly punched the one who had laughed before he flicked his cigarette at the man who had been talking._

_“Rog, no!”_

_He had seen flashback Freddie, John, and Brian hurry over to him and that was when Roger was suddenly back in the venue._

The drummer blinked a couple times and looked around to see the men looking at him worriedly, Brian a couple inches away from him.

“Rog, are you all right?”

Roger took a deep breath and glanced at Freddie before looking at Brian and nodding. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

What a hell of a time to have a flashback. It was odd that something so small as a strong emotion had brought back a strong memory of something.

Roger played according to the set list and by the middle he felt adrenaline kick in and he was actually having a good time. By the end of the final song, Roger was exhausted beyond belief, but he extended his drumming for the finale and finally ended it before he stood up to wave goodbye to the crowd who was screaming and cheering.

He quickly undid a part of his drum kit and grabbed it before he started out with it, heading towards the van. He threw it inside before he lit another cigarette and relaxed as he smoked. Several minutes later, he saw Brian come out, his guitar still slung around his body before he placed it inside the van as well.

“Hey, everything okay? You rushed out pretty quickly.”

Roger sighed. “I’m getting tired of people asking me that question a hundred times a day. Is there literally nothing else you can ask me that’s not related to… me?”

Brian laughed softly before he walked over to Roger and placed his shoulder against the younger man’s shoulder.

“Sorry, but it’s a fair question to ask. Speaking of… did you have another flashback in there? I saw you blank out suddenly. I was worried.”

Roger nodded quietly and took another drag.

“Want to share what it was about?”

The drummer shrugged, sick of talking about the flashbacks, about himself. It felt like an out of body experience and they always came at strange, inopportune times. That frustrated him.

“Freddie, I guess.”

“Sorry?”

Roger looked over at him and saw confusion on his face. “When Freddie was doing his introduction earlier, those two guys laughed at him, and then I had the flashback. We were outside talking, or something, and two guys were making fun of him, and I hit the one guy and flicked my cigarette at the other. Then, the rest of you came over and tried to drag me away from them but I just… felt so angry.”

Brian took this in and he gave him a sad smile. “Did you feel angry when you heard those guys laugh at Freddie at the start of the show too?”

Roger nodded and inhaled again, blowing it as he looked down at the ground. When the guitarist didn’t say anything else, he looked over at the man. “Do you remember that day?”

_Stupid question. Of course Brian remembered it. He wasn’t the one with a traumatic brain injury._

“Yeah, that was… an interesting night. I don’t think you would even remember it without your injury, to be honest. You were shitfaced that night,” Brian explained.

“What else happened that night?”

Brian smiled at the thought and he wrapped an arm around Roger’s shoulders lovingly. “Freddie and you were going drink for drink. You were so drunk that you thought this person at the bar was a woman, and you tried to hit on them but it turned out it was a man, and a straight man, at that. He wasn’t very happy at your prepositioning.”

Roger couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, imaging how that scene must have unfolded. “Oh god… then what?” He let himself lean against the other man before taking another drag.

“Well,” Brian smirked. “You danced for about an hour, then drank some more, and then it was about half one. At that point, we were all ready to leave. We walked out together in the parking lot but John forgot his jacket so I went back with him to get it. Then, when we came back out, we saw you fighting with two blokes and you broke the one guy’s nose. We dragged you to over to the van and then we went home.”

Roger grinned and laughed again. “Good. I’m glad I broke that tosser’s nose.”

“I’m not one to condone violence or anything, but I was secretly glad you did too, Rog.”

Brian’s confession made Roger look over at him and smile before putting his cigarette out. He felt him wrap his arms around Roger in a hug and he hugged him back, breathing him in and then relaxing.

“Freddie and John still inside?”

Brian nodded against him before reluctantly pulling away. “Yes, they’re going to celebrate post show by most likely drinking copious amounts of lager. Would you like to join them?”

Roger smirked and nodded. “Yeah, I think I would. I could use a drink right now.”

“Maybe go easy on drinking tonight?” Brian suggested.

The drummer nodded. “Right, yeah. I only want to have a few. I won’t go too crazy. I’m pretty tired as it is.”

“Me too,” the other man agreed, smiling before leading them back inside.

There was bar music playing as the two men entered the building and walked over to the bar, where Brian ordered them two pints. Roger listened closely to the music, only half paying attention to his friend.

The song sounded so familiar…

_No, not again. Fuck._

He faintly felt a glass enter his hand when he felt himself being dragged back into his memories.

_“Yesterday my life was in ruin… now today I know what I'm doing. Gotta feeling, I should be doing alright…”_

_“Doing alright…”_

_He could see himself on a stage drumming at a slow tempo with Brian playing on his left side and someone else he didn’t recognize on his right side who was singing._

_It was a pretty small crowd full of mostly university students, the air thick with smoke._

“Roger!” an alarmed voice yelled, bringing him out of his memory.

The drummer felt his body jolt violently when he was brought back to the present, and saw beer spill over the glass onto his hand and the floor. He looked around and saw others watching him, some in concern but most of them in annoyance.

“Roger, come over here and sit down,” Brian instructed worriedly as he gently pulled the drummer over to a table and sat him down. “Talk to me, love. Are you all right?”

The drummer nodded and wiped the spilled beer from his hands onto his pants absentmindedly. “Hm? Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Bri. Just another one. Jesus, I wish they’d stop hitting me when I’m trying to do something. Why can’t I get them at nighttime when I’m in bed?”

But he knew why, of course. The memories were being triggered by music and the things that other people would say to him. Although inconvenient, it made sense as to why the memories were being triggered at particular moments.

He felt a gentle hand caress his shoulder and felt a warmness spread throughout him. He looked up and saw other people in the club eyeing them in almost amusement. Brian must have saw their eyes too because he let his hand fall back down before he turned to look at him.

“You were swaying. I had to hold you up so you wouldn’t fall and hit your head. What was the flashback?”

“We were playing,” Roger explained before he started to hum the song in his head loudly so Brian would hear it. “I didn’t recognize the singer, though. It wasn’t Freddie, and Deaky wasn’t even there.”

Brian shifted a little in his seat. “It was Tim Staffell. You and I were in a band called Smile really early on, and he was the singer and bass player at the time.”

He took a moment to take this in. “What was he like?”

“He didn’t play with us for too long, but you and he didn’t get on so well. You two used to butt heads a lot. The song that was playing that night was the last song we ever did together before he went to go join another band.”

“What was the band called?” Roger took a drink of his beer.

Brian visibly cringed. “Humpy Bong.”

Roger looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Humpy Bong? Are you joking?”

Brian chuckled and shook his head. “Those were the exact words you said to him when he told us. I’ve got chills.”

The younger man smiled and continued to drink his pint. The two men sat and talked for a few hours and Roger felt like nothing had changed at all. John came back around midnight looking tired.

Brian looked up at him expectantly. “Ready to leave?”

“Wait, what about Freddie? Shouldn’t we wait for him?”

John shook his head as Brian stood up. “Nope. He’ll probably come home sometime tomorrow morning. He’s probably found someone to go home with, I suspect.”

Brian smiled at Roger before he led John and him back to the van and headed back to the flat. When they got home, John instantly went to his room before Roger and Brian did as well.

“Did you have fun?”

Roger started to get changed into his pajamas. “Oh yeah, between having two involuntary flashbacks, I had a blast. They were fine at first, but now I just wish they’d stop. I like remembering things about my old life, but I’m afraid the next one I have, I’m going to fall and hit my head or something.”

Brian gently ran his fingers through the blonde’s hair, smiling sympathetically. “I hear you, Rog. Don’t’ worry. I’ll be there, just in case you do fall.”

His words made the drummer beam and he pulled on a t-shirt before he crawled into bed. Brian did as well and the two men lay close together.

John’s words were brought back into his mind and this time he didn’t will them away. Instead, he let the words float freely around.

_Are you sure Brian’s not taking advantage of you?_

John’s words had made him angry at the time, but now that he lay here beside the guitarist, he couldn’t help but wonder: _Had he let Brian take advantage of him?_

His smile faded and he turned onto his other side, afraid of seeing the disappointment on Brian’s face. “Goodnight, Bri.”

A faint whisper. “Goodnight, Rog.”


	9. issues & injuries

**.    .    .**

The next morning, Roger woke up to an empty bed. A part of him wasn’t surprised at the fact with how cold he had been towards Brian last night before they had gone to sleep. He couldn’t shake the panic he was feeling in his chest, though.

 _What the hell was he doing?_ He had such strong feelings towards Brian and here he was causing unnecessary conflict between them, but the person who had put the idea into his head in the first place was actually the one causing the conflict.

The more Roger thought about the situation, the more he realized the bassist might have a point. How long had Brian been having feelings towards him? Roger couldn’t remember how things had been between them before… what if his accident and brain trauma had been Brian’s key into Roger’s pants? What if they hadn’t actually been great friends before, or worse yet, what if something really bad had happened between them?

What if the older man had hurt him before? It’d be convenient that he couldn’t remember any of it now. Surely, Freddie or John might have told him about it, though?

_What if John was telling him about it in an offhanded way now in an attempt to have been delicate?_

Roger felt the panic growing.

He felt like he was being silly, ridiculous even, but he really had no way of knowing who he could trust. As far as he was concerned, he only has known these men for a little over a week now. Sure he was remembering things all the time now, but a thought crept into his head.

_What if his mind was trying to protect him by not showing him all the bad flashbacks?_

This thought made him uneasy as he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, feeling so horrible. These were all thoughts he couldn’t even back up. They were just him spit balling simply because he didn’t have all the facts and he was forced to rely on people he hadn’t known very long, as least in his head.

Then a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He cleared his dry throat. “Y-Yeah?” He called out.

“It’s me,” a gentle voice announced from the other side of the door. “May I come in?”

_Brian._

Roger sighed and groaned inwardly. He couldn’t let himself believe that the man he was attracted to was actually a potential gas lighting rapist piece of shit.

_That wasn’t fair to him, right?_

“Yeah,” Roger answered. “Come in.”

A second later, the door opened and Brian slipped inside before he closed the door again and moved onto the bed beside Roger, laying on his side to look at him. His eyes were cautious as they looked at the drummer.

“Are we okay, Rog?”

The younger man looked over at him and nodded before sniffing. “Yeah, fine. Why do you ask?”

“Last night,” he spoke softly. “We were talking and at first you seemed okay, and then suddenly, you were acting distant. Did I say something to make you uncomfortable? You have to know, that’s the last thing I ever want to do.”

Brian saying things like this made Roger feel like an utter cock for daring to think that the guitarist would purposely hurt him like his mind was making him believe. He swallowed hard and shook his head.

“No, we’re all right. I’m sorry. I was probably just knackered from the show.”

He felt Brian trace his upper leg before he moved up his body and then slipped his hand under his shirt. He suddenly felt nauseous; not so much with Brian, but with himself.

_What was going on with his body? Why was his brain turning against him?_

Roger tensed at Brian’s touch and suddenly the other man immediately withdrew his hand from under his shirt, his brows knitting together.

“What’s going on, Rog?” He asked with worry in his voice now. “Did… did something happen to you last night that I don’t know about? Did… John do something?”

The gradually increasing anger in Brian’s voice towards the bassist made Roger cringe inside. There was something he didn’t like about it.

“No, Deaky didn’t do anything,” Roger said clearly.

Brian sat up and looked down at the drummer. “Then talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Roger lied, not wanting to get into it with Brian before he’s even had coffee or nicotine.

“Something’s wrong… this isn’t you, Roger. I can tell something’s going on and you need to tell me. _Please,_ ” he added. “I want you to tell me. If I’ve done something –"

“Have you?” Roger asked as he sat up as well.

“Sorry?”

“Done something,” he clarified. “Have you done something that I should know about? I mean, you probably wouldn’t tell me anyway, even if you have, but –"

Brian’s eyes widened. “Done something like what, exactly?”

Roger stood up, sighing heavily. He crossed his arms in front of his body, shrugging. “I-I don’t know! But John thinks that it’s too soon to be together and –"

The other man stood up as well and put his hand up. “Wait a minute, John? He’s been talking to you about what he thinks is best, has he? What else did he say?”

Roger regret even bringing the bassist into the conversation, but he couldn’t help it. It had just slipped out.

_It was way too early for this shit._

“No,” Roger shook his head, suddenly becoming anxious as he tried to backtrack. “I’m… I’m sorry. It’s nothing. Just forget I said anything.”

Brian took a step towards him and flinched visibly when he saw his friend take a quick step away from him.

“Did he tell you I was going to hurt you? Is that why you’re backing away from me?” His voice was almost fearful. “I’d never put aggressive hands on you, Rog. Never.”

Roger chewed on his lip and watched Brian apprehensively. “Have you before? Ever?”

“We’ve roughhoused a bit before, but I never hurt you,” Brian promised. “I swear on my life, Rog. I’ve never hit you or anything. I would never hurt you like that. I don’t think I’d be able to even look at myself if I did.”

The blonde relaxed a little bit, hearing the fear in Brian’s voice. He nodded and bit his lip.

“What did John say to you, Roger?” He asked in a softer tone.

Roger shook his head. “It was… stupid. It wasn’t even about you hurting me or anything. That was just… me. My stupid brain’s all fucked up right now and making me think things that aren’t true, I guess. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Brian moved closer to Roger again and this time the drummer didn’t move away. This seemed to ease the other man a bit and it encouraged him to move closer.

“It’s okay, Rog. Really… sometimes really bad accidents can do that to people. It’s not your fault. I just… want to know what John said to you. Was this in the parking lot after our show last night?”

Roger bit his lip harder before he nodded and then looked away, anyway except at his friend. He didn’t want to make trouble between them. “He asked me if you were taking advantage of me because of my accident. He thought maybe… you were just gas lighting me or something.”

“Gas lighting you for what purpose?”

Roger shrugged dramatically and shook his head, wanting to be done with this conversation. “I guess… to let me believe that we’ve been best mates this whole time and that you’ve always felt something for me when you hadn’t? I really don’t know, to be honest. I guess he suggested it and my brain started making up worst case scenarios.”

Brian took this in and he wet his lips nervously before he searched the drummer’s eyes. “I have, Rog.”

“What?”

“I… I have felt something for you since… the first day I met you. I know you don’t remember any of it, and… obviously that’s fine, because it has to be, but I want you to know that I’ve felt this… attraction to you since day 1. I’ve never made anything up and I haven’t lied to you about my feelings for you, Rog. I promise.”

His words made Roger’s stomach do a flip and he felt a newfound warmth in his bones. He swallowed hard. “Really?”

“Really,” Brian nodded. He was quiet for a long time but then eventually added, “I love John, but don’t listen to him. He means well, I believe, but he doesn’t know us like we know us. I’ll talk to him too, but just ignore him if he tries to tell you want to think about me or our relationship, yeah?”

Roger nodded now and gave a weak smile. His bad feelings had disappeared with Brian’s words earlier and he could only feel love, or something very close to it at least. His brain could go to hell, for all he cared.

“I don’t want this to ruin your friendship, though,” Roger replied worriedly.

Brian shook his head. “No, it’s… it’s fine. He’s just trying to look out for you, and I can recognize that. He didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not going to tear into him or anything.”

He felt his nerves loosen and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Great. So… are we done talking about this now? I need either caffeine or nicotine or both before my head starts spinning around by itself.”

The guitarist chortled before he nodded and then smirked at Roger. “Might it be possible to get a kiss first?”

Roger grinned and slowly meandered over to him before kissing his lips. When he kissed him, it felt like the first time all over again and the feeling made him linger. He placed his hands on Brian’s waist, kissing him a bit deeper, feeling him do the same before reluctantly pulling away and laughing giddily.

“We should go out there before we can’t control ourselves any longer. If we’re going to do something, I’d much rather do it when neither of them are here.”

Roger snorted in laughter now before he nodded. “All right, fair enough. Let’s go then.” He gently kicked Brian’s ass with his bare foot when he had turned around and started walking out.

Brian yelped playfully and walked out to see John drinking coffee. He glanced up at them, giving a polite smile. Both men returned the smile before grabbing their own coffee and sitting down at the table together.

Roger lit a cigarette before taking a drag, leaning back in his chair.

“John, might I have a word with you in private for a moment?” Brian asked calmly.

John blinked but nodded and stood up. “Yeah, sure.”

Brian silently made sure Roger was all right to be left alone by himself before he led John to his room and closed the door behind him before he looked at the bassist sternly, crossing his arms.

“John, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk to Roger alone anymore.”

The request took John by surprise. “I’m sorry?”

“Roger told me what you told him last night in the parking lot. I’m trying to get Roger back in the swing of things right now and I don’t need you putting wrong ideas or thoughts that aren’t true into his head,” Brian explained.

John seemed to understand now and he exhaled before he ran a hand through his hair, nodding. “I just wanted him to be aware, that’s all. I didn’t want him to feel pressured to be with you if he didn’t want to be.”

“He does, though, John! That’s just it. He _does_. So I know you meant well, but please just… stay the hell out of our relationship. Just because you don’t agree with what we’re doing doesn’t mean you can’t try and break us up.”

“I’m not trying to break you two up,” John insisted evenly.

Brian took a step closer to him. “ _Whatever_ you’re trying to do, stop. All right? Just let it be. He knows my feelings for him, you don’t. I’ve known him a lot longer than you have so please, just focus on yourself instead of us because we’re fine.”

John looked like he had a million things he wanted to say but he was holding everything inside instead. He just looked at Brian before he nodded in understanding.

“Good, thank you. I want us to be okay, for the band’s sake,” Brian said seriously.

John started to anxiously chew on his cuticles before he nodded once again. The silent gesture was starting to irk Brian a bit but he didn’t want to have an argument with one of his friends and band members. He just didn’t want to risk losing Roger again.

“All right, well… that’s all I’ve got. Can we hug it out, mate?”

John rolled his eyes but he put gave the much taller man a hug and a gentle pat on the back in true man-hug fashion before Brian did the same and gave him a reassuring smile. “We’re good now. I won’t say anything else about it, just remember everything I said, yeah?”

“Right. Yeah,” John nodded. “Free to go then?”

Brian moved out of the way. “Yeah, of course. Go on.” He watched as John walked out of the bedroom and followed him out, watching as the bassist grabbed his coffee from the kitchen and made a beeline for his room.

Roger watched this happen and looked at Brian disappointedly. “What did you say to him? You made him leave!”

“I didn’t tell him to leave!” Brian said defensively, putting his hands up. “It was his decision. Anyway, I just told him to leave you alone and stop being a prick, basically.”

Roger sighed but gave him a half smirk, taking a drag from a suddenly full cigarette.

Brian looked at him with surprise. “Chain smoking this morning, are we? Are you that stressed out about things?”

The drummer shrugged and took a sip of his second cup of coffee. “What _don’t_ I have to be stressed about, exactly? I keep having flashbacks at the worst fucking times, I can’t remember at least three-quarters of my life, I don’t remember certain songs that we used to play, I have Deaky telling me one thing, and then you’re telling me another… what part isn’t stressful to you?”

“Rog, you’re being dramatic again,” Brian chuckled, sitting down beside him. When Roger playfully knocked ash off his cigarette on Brian’s lap, the guitarist quickly brushed it off of him and shook his head. “Such an arsehole. I guess not much has changed after all.”

Roger laughed and rolled his eyes before taking another puff. “So what are we doing today?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. You know the area better than me,” he shrugged. “Can we go see a movie or something?” He lifted his foot up and placed it on Brian’s leg almost instinctively and then felt the other man start to rub his foot tenderly.

“Like a date?” Brian asked almost smugly, grinning from ear to ear.

“No,” Roger said automatically. “Not a… fine. _Kind_ of a date.”

The guitarist snickered but then looked at his boyfriend with love in his eyes. “Of course we can do that. I’d love to see a movie with you. How about Star Wars? You used to be obsessed with those movies.”

“I was?” Roger asked. “I don’t think I even remember what they were about.”

Brian smirked. “They’re about star wars,” he teased, still rubbing Roger’s feet. The drummer scoffed and took another drag before he put it out and looked at Brian.

“Did you used to rub my feet before too?” He asked in a near whisper.

Brian shrugged. “Sometimes, mostly when you were hungover and you wanted me to feel bad for you. Of course I did it because I know if I didn’t, then you’d complain until I did.”

Roger laughed at the thought. He was about to say something when the front door opened and in walked a hungover Freddie but that seemed to be the least of his problems.

The drummer tensed at the sight of him; blue and yellow bruises were visible on the singer’s arms, there was dry blood on his lip under a cut, and a cut right above his eye. “Jesus Christ… what happened to you, Freddie?”

Brian carefully placed Roger’s foot on the floor before he stood up and walked over to the singer to examine him more closely but he waved him off.

“I’m fine, darlings, really. It doesn’t even hurt that badly!”

Roger stood up slowly as well, watching them and feeling sick to his stomach.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “We should clean up those cuts and disinfect them. Then you’re going to tell us what the hell happened.” He walked down the hall to the bathroom and came back with a first aid kit.

He forcibly made the singer sit down in a chair as he started to clean him up. “Well?”

“Well nothing, Brian! I simply tripped and fell on the sidewalk last night. You’re really making a big deal out of nothing, I’m afraid,” Freddie winced and hissed in pain when Brian touched the cut above his eye with a cotton ball of rubbing alcohol. “Damn it…”

“Sorry. It needs to be disinfected, though. Come on, now. Out with it.”

Freddie groaned and swallowed hard. He glanced over and saw Roger’s vexed expression on his face. He bit his lip and looked down at his slender hands. “It’s really nothing, dear. I appreciate your concern, though. I’m a grown adult, though, Brian… it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“That’s fine, Fred, but you don’t need to handle it alone. Now isn’t a great time to be a martyr, especially not in this flat.”

The singer smirked weakly but winced at the cut on his lip. Brian finished cleaning him up, placing small butterfly bandages where necessary before he put the first aid kit back and then walked back out to him. He seemed different.

Something had definitely happened; he wasn’t the same Freddie as before. It seemed like his friends were both going through personality changes at the same time, but for different reasons, and it made him feel fearful. The two men had been his rocks, his constants in life, and now they were both crumbling before his eyes.

“Did this happen last night or this morning?” Brian tried a different angle.

“My fall? Oh, umm… it was this morning, I believe.”

Brian sighed softly. “You just told me earlier that it happened last night.” It was clear now that Freddie had gone through something much worse than a fall.

The singer gave a sad smile and a shrug. “Look, darling, this is my own personal issue to deal with. I really do appreciate your worry over me, but I can handle this by myself. I don’t need, nor want, to talk about it. All I wish to do right now is go to my bed and sleep the entire day.”

Brian rubbed his temples but nodded, deciding not to force him to talk, at least not right now. He would get answers eventually but it was clear that Freddie needed to rest. “I’ll bring some tea in later. Roger and I are going to be going to go see a movie shortly.”

He questioned if he actually wanted to go see the movie with Freddie in this condition but he wouldn’t be alone, at least.

Freddie stood up and started to walk down the hall but as he walked, Brian could see that he was walking awkwardly, favoring one side over another. This concerned him even more but once again, he wanted to also just let the singer rest. He’d make sure to check things out later.

He walked over to John’s room and knocked on the door. A few minutes later he saw the bassist open it and his angry expression fell when he saw the concern written all over Brian’s face.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Freddie came home,” he said quietly. “He’s pretty badly beaten, by the looks of things. I promised Roger a movie so we’re going to go see Star Wars. Would you mind making Freddie some tea and just keep an eye on him until we come back?”

John’s eyes turned fearful and he nodded, as if they hadn’t actually been arguing earlier. “Of course.”

“Thanks, John. We’ll be home in a couple hours.”

The younger man nodded. “No worries. I’ll watch him.” He started out to the kitchen to make the tea, Brian following not far behind before he looked at Roger.

“All right. Let’s get dressed and then we’ll go, yeah?”

Roger looked hesitant but he nodded and went to go get ready.

 

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

Roger and Brian were halfway through the movie and in the dark, they were secretly holding hands, but the tension was heavy. Occasionally, they would glance at each other before hesitantly looking back at the movie but then, somehow on the same wavelength, they both stood up at the same time and walked out of the theater before they walked back to the van and Brian started to drive them home.

It wasn’t even the kind of tension they wanted. It wasn’t sensual, or a wanting; it was fear and worry about Freddie. The singer had shrugged all of it off but they both knew he was in pain. How much, they didn’t know.

They were almost home when Brian cleared his throat and glanced over at him. “You used to study biology in university. Do you remember that, Rog?”

The question seemed so random while his thoughts were on the singer that it took Roger by surprise. “What?”

“University. You used to study biology. Then you started studying anatomy and medicine. You had me help you memorize parts of the skull, and muscles in the body. Do you remember any of that?”

Roger looked over at him and shrugged helplessly. “No, I don’t. Why are you asking me about this, though?”

Brian rested his head on his arm as he drove, looking over at Roger meaningfully. “I just thought… maybe if you remembered something, you could help Freddie. Maybe you could tell if he’s broken anything, you know?”

Comprehension rose in Roger’s eyes now and he let out a shaky breath. “I-I don’t know, Bri. I mean… I think I might know… _some_ things but I’m not sure.”

Brian nodded and when they got home, he motioned for Roger to follow him to their room. He got on his hands and knees in front of the closet again and started to dig through the pile until he found several textbooks and grabbed the ones on anatomy and medical practice. He handed the three books to Roger nervously.

The drummer grabbed them and flipped through the pages before he found a section on how to tell if something was broken or just sprained, and what to do in case of other injuries. He dog-eared it before closing it again.

“You want me to go talk to Freddie?”

Brian chewed on his lip anxiously before he nodded. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. Even if you don’t remember anything, those pages still make more sense to you than to me. I just studied astrophysics. I don’t know much about broken bones.”

“What makes you think I do?” Roger asked in partial resentment.

Brian sighed. “I’ve seen you broken your nose before, and then set the bones and cartilage back properly just by looking in a mirror and finding the right joints to move. You can help Freddie more than I can. Please, Rog. We could go to a hospital and have them help him but it’s easier this way. Just try.”

Roger heard the pleading in Brian’s voice and felt his heart break. He nodded in agreement. “Okay. Fine, but what if I try to help him and I just hurt him worse? Then what?”

“If that happens, then I’ll take him to the hospital but just try, all right? Please? For me?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, all right, I’m not promising anything, though.”

Brian wrapped his arms around the drummer and held him close before kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Rog. This means a lot to me and it would to Freddie if he wasn’t such a stubborn prick.”

Roger chuckled weakly before he started towards Freddie’s room.


	10. kiss me deadly

**.    .    .**

Roger gently knocked on Freddie’s door a bit hesitantly, still holding the three books Brian had given him. He had no idea what he had planned on doing with them but he supposed he would know once he talked to the singer.

“Come in, I suppose,” a small voice from inside spoke.

Roger entered and closed the door behind him before he walked over to Freddie, who was laying on the bed and looking awfully uncomfortable, most likely in a lot of pain. He bit his lip anxiously before he sat down in a nearby chair, setting the books on the bedside table.

“Is it all right if we talk?”

Freddie winced as he looked over at Roger. “Alright, Rog, what shall we talk about?”

The drummer looked down at his hands. Of course he wasn’t going to make this easy on him. He looked back over at him. “How about we start with what happened last night?”

“I told you, darling… I tripped and fell on the bloody walkway!”

Roger shook his head. “I’d like to actually hear the truth, if that’s okay, Freddie. Tell me something real. I’m not… going to judge you or anything, if that’s what you’re afraid of. This is serious, and I’m worried about you.”

“I’d believe it more if you told me Brian is worried about me, dear.” Freddie gave a small smirk.

Roger sighed and shook his head. “We both are.”

“It’s nothing either of you need to worry about. It’s just… my own personal shit and I’d appreciate it if we talk about something else now.”

The drummer needed answers and knew he couldn’t let Freddie off the hook that easy. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward, searching the other man’s bruised and battered face. It turned his stomach to see him so bruised with cuts on his face. It made him angry as well; not at Freddie, but at the fucking assholes that did this to him.

“Sorry, Freddie, but we need to talk about this. I’m serious. Just… talk to me. Tell me what happened after we left, please.”

The singer turned from side to side, trying to get comfortable but he couldn’t so he settled on sitting upright. Roger felt a pull from within himself when he saw him; it was a feeling, really. Like he could tell where Freddie was hurt and what it was. It was a strange sensation.

The singer looked a bit nervous now but it was clear he was putting on a brave face. “You really want to hear this? Honestly?”

Roger nodded surely. “Yes, Freddie. I really do want to hear it.”

“And you promise you won’t laugh, darling?”

Roger felt his chest aching. He knew for a goddamn fact he wasn’t going to be laughing at him. “I promise. Now, out with it, mate.”

Freddie took a moment to think before he nodded. “All right, then. Well… I was having a lovely time last night dancing after you left, and I stayed for a few more hours. Then I decided to grab a cab after I had some drinks. I had headed outside and… there was a man out there,” his eyebrows knitted now before he suddenly looked ashamed and grew quiet.

Roger’s stomach twisted at the singer’s silence. “It’s okay, Freddie. Please, continue.”

Freddie nodded and looked like he was craving a cigarette. Roger patted his pockets for his own and then took out the package before he offered one to the singer, who gratefully took it before he placed it between his lips. Roger grabbed his lighter out and watched the other man lean in before he lit the cigarette.

“Thank you, darling,” he took a long drag off it before exhaling shakily. “Anyway, this man started to… hit on me. He began flirting and he was somewhat handsome so I flirted back, and then he did something strange. He… whistled, and I was wondering why on earth he was whistling, or to whom he was whistling at, but then… out of nowhere, I felt someone hit me in the face. Then, I felt them hold me against the wall of the building and choke me. I thought I was going to pass out at the time because I-I couldn’t breathe.”

Roger put his face in his hand. “ _Jesus…_ He called his friends over,” Roger deduced.

“Oh, that’s not even the best part, dear. Then I felt myself be thrown onto the ground, and repeatedly kicked all over. I… I begged them to stop but it was a long time before they finally did, but not before they called me every homophobic slur known to man,” he laughed humorlessly now, Roger dead quiet as he let his friend talk.

“I must have lay there for at least twenty minutes, just in case they were still there. Then I stayed at someone else’s place that I trusted, until this morning, and then I came back here. I was such a bloody coward, Rog…” he shook his head and it was now that Roger saw tears in his eyes and then watched as them fell down his cheeks.

The drummer swallowed hard, feeling hatred and rage towards those _monsters_ who had attacked Freddie. He wished he could go find them and hurt them like they hurt his friend.

He shook his head. “You’re not a coward, Freddie,” he said softly. “ _They’re_ the bloody cowards, aren’t they? They attacked you because of what you are, and that’s the most cowardice thing ever.”

Freddie smiled weakly. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, darling.”

 _Fuck, that was sad if that was true._ “Well, I mean it. I wish I had been there so I could’ve made those homophobic bastards eat their teeth.”

The singer looked genuinely surprised. “You are really upset about this, aren’t you, dear?”

Roger blinked. “Shouldn’t I be? They attacked you!”

“Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate it, but I didn’t think you cared for me that much. We fight or… we fought almost all the time before. I never thought we were ever truly friends.”

He bit his lip now and shrugged. “Even when we fight, I feel like we’re still friends afterwards, Freddie,” Roger spoke honestly. “I care about you, and I think I always will, even if you are a stubborn arse.”

This made the singer laugh softly before he took a last drag and then put the cigarette out in an ashtray nearby. He glanced at the books now and raised an eyebrow. “Doing some light reading, I see.”

Roger felt nervous. This was going to be the part that Freddie probably wasn’t going to like very much. He sat up a bit straighter now and thought about how he was going to do this. Brian wanted him to check out Freddie to make sure he didn’t have any serious injuries.

“Time to undress, Freddie.”

The singer looked at him in amusement and he chuckled before he smiled coyly. “You’re very cute, Rog, but I’m afraid you’re not my type.”

Roger chuckled and felt heat rise a little in his cheeks before he turned serious again. “Brian thinks I have the medical education to diagnose and treat you, so off with your clothes. I need to have a look and make sure you haven’t broken anything.”

Freddie sighed dramatically but winced as he did so before he used the bed to force himself up, letting out a small yelp of pain before he started to pull off his shirt and pants, the same clothes he had been wearing last night at their show. He stopped when he got to his underwear and looked at Roger.

“Well, you’ve made it farther than most men who’ve hit on me before. I’m all yours, darling.”

Roger knew that he was trying to be funny, but the blonde couldn’t do anything but gape at Freddie’s body. Not because he was particularly attracted to him, but because of all the bruises on his body. He hadn’t noticed it before but the other man was covered nearly entirely in large dark bruises.

He tore his eyes away long enough to open up one of the books and found a chapter on bruises and how to tell the serious ones apart from the not-so-serious ones, as well as how to differ them from internal bleeding.

He started to examine Freddie from every angle, not seeing any broken bones luckily, but there were bruising on his friend’s ribs that made him nervous. He stood up and delicately pressed against the first and second ribs that had the deep bruising.

Freddie flinched away quickly, crying out in pain again. “S-Shit! Fucking hell, Roger!”

“Sorry, Freddie… the bruising is really bad there and… your ribs don’t look quite right, according to how they should look here in the book. And you seem to be having a little difficulty breathing. I think you may have broken a rib or two when they kicked you last night,” Roger explained a little nervously.

The singer sighed now and shook his head in disbelief. “It’s just bruises, Rog. They’ll go away. Just give it a few days.”

The drummer was starting to doubt himself. What did he actually know about anything medical? He wasn’t a licensed doctor. He was barely a student. All he had were books he could only just understand the basics. He had to hope that was enough.

“Fine, but if you’re still in agony in a few days and the bruises are still there, then we’re going to the hospital, even if Brian and I have to drag you there,” he saw Freddie nod in agreement. “Good. Now, are you hurt… anywhere else?”

The singer looked confused at first, but then gave him a reassuring smile before he shook his head. “No, dear. I’m fine, in that department. Wouldn’t that have been ironic if they had raped me after bashing me for being gay?”

Roger didn’t say anything but gave him a sad smile. He started to carefully rub his body in certain places, feeling for bones out of place or whatever else, but just felt him wince when his hand met the other bruises. He closed the book and sighed.

“You can get dressed now, if you like.”

“Since I’m already mostly out of my clothes, I think I’ll go shower, and then I’m going back to bed because I’m utterly exhausted and terribly sore.”

Roger nodded in understanding. “Yeah, of course. We’ll see you when we see you.” He was surprised when Freddie walked closer to him, and for a moment Roger thought that the man was going to kiss him, but he was met with a careful hug instead before Freddie left the room and headed towards the bathroom.

Roger felt a warmth radiate inside him and let it linger there for a while before he walked out to where Brian was sitting on the couch, looking a bit tense. He stood up when the drummer approached him.

“So, how is he?”

Roger shrugged. “He’s completely bruised, all over his body. There’s some pretty deeper bruising though near his first and second ribs, and his breathing’s a bit shaky. I think he might have broken them, but he doesn’t want to go to the hospital. He thinks they’re just bruised so… I told him we’d give it a few days and if he’s not better by then, we’d force him into hospital.”

Brian nodded, seemingly accepting of this diagnosis. “Good. We’ll have to keep an eye on him, to make sure he doesn’t get worse. Anything else?”

Roger shook his head. “No, just the cuts on his face and the bruises. He was lucky that he didn’t break anything, I think. He… he hugged me. I think he might have a concussion.”

Brian chuckled now and looked at him in surprise. “He… hugged you? Really?”

The drummer nodded.

“Wow. He hasn’t hugged you since we found out we were going to be touring for the first time,” Brian’s eyes widened in surprise but he smiled at Roger before it faded slightly. “Has John talked to you since last night?”

Roger shook his head and sighed now, unable to shake off the uncomfortable feeling he was having. “Did you tell him not to talk to me?” There was slight irritation in his voice.

The older man sighed. “I just don’t want him upsetting you and giving you the wrong idea about us. I don’t like that he’s trying to break us up when he doesn’t even know what’s going on!”

Roger bit his lip but he also felt mild irritation as well. “I get it, but he’s still part of the band. We still need to talk to him and he’s still our friend. We can’t just keep fighting about… this,” he motioned from himself to Brian, “when there’s other things we could be arguing about. Don’t tell him he can’t talk to me. Maybe I want to talk to _him!_ Have you thought of that?”

Brian tongued his cheek but knew Roger had a point. He couldn’t control who talked to who; they were all their own people and would do what they wanted, even if it was unpopular. He nodded. “You’re right, Rog. I’m sorry. I was just trying to look out for you.”

“As sweet as that is, Bri, I don’t need you to do that. I’m not a child.”

The guitarist nodded again in understanding and felt almost sick with himself that he had even told John it in the first place. Who did he think he was? Was he going to be _that_ kind of controlling person to Roger? He couldn’t be.

“I’m sorry, Roger. I won’t tell John not to talk to you anymore. It’s disgusting of me to have done that at all,” he admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

The other man nodded in acknowledgement and gave a small smile. “So… you don’t mind if I talk to him right now?”

Brian shook his head. “Not at all, go ahead, mate,” he gave Roger a loving smile before standing up. “I’m going to make a small lunch for Fred.” He made his way to the kitchen and gently caressed his boyfriend’s back with his hand lovingly before he started to make up a sandwich for the singer.

Roger watched him for a bit before he walked down the hall and knocked lightly on John’s room. “Deaky?”

The door opened and he was met with a tensed up John Deacon. Roger didn’t miss the bassist’s eyes darting around anxiously. “How’s Freddie?”

Roger gave a weak smile. “He’s a bit beaten up and bruised, might potentially have a couple broken ribs, but he’ll live.”

John’s eyes became flooded with worry. “B-Broken ribs? Should we be taking him to hospital?”

“He’s being stubborn and insisting they’re not broken. I figured I’d give him a couple days to live in denial before we drag him there. Anyway, I think he’ll cave by tomorrow evening. I think the pain will be too much for him.”

John nodded in understanding before the two men stood there, looking at each other. There was a look in the younger man’s eyes that he couldn’t pinpoint but the only way he could describe it was that it was a similar look that he recognized in Brian.

“Do you mind if we hang out in there for a bit? Brian’s busy making lunch and I just thought we’d… hang out.”

John bit his lip. “I-I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Rog. I mean, I don’t think Brian will like that. He doesn’t really want us to be talking anymore.”

“Don’t worry, I already talked to him about it. He told me how he talked to you before and I convinced him that I’m going to talk to you anyway.”

John smiled softly and then moved away from the door so Roger could come inside. He closed the door behind them and put on a record before sitting down on his bed. Roger sat down beside him before he got lazy and then lay down on his back instead.

“I think your bed might be more comfortable than mine, Deaky,” the drummer complained, chuckling.

John smiled, laughing also as he looked down at his friend. “I called dibs on the room when we first rented it. All of you wanted it because of the bed,” he ran a hand through his hand and the two of them were quiet, the only sound in the room was the sound of The Who playing.

Roger looked up at him and felt his stomach knot as he realized John had leaned in more and then he felt his lips on his own suddenly, gently forcing Roger’s mouth open so John could deepen the kiss. The sensation felt so nice that it took a while for his brain to process what was happening and he forced himself to move away from him.

He sat up now and put his fingers to his lips, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Another flashback suddenly hit him hard when he looked at him and as much as he tried to fight against falling into the past, it forced him there anyway.

_He was in an auditorium with Freddie and Brian and they were all hanging out together when they saw a younger man with a bass around him walk inside and look at them all nervously._

_"Your name?" Brian had asked politely._

_"O-Oh sorry," the younger man stuttered before he put his hand out towards Brian first. "Deacon. John Deacon, but... err... my friends call me Deaky."_

_He went around to all of them and shook their hands, shaking Roger's hand last and smiling at him._

_Roger had smiled back. "It's great meeting you, Deaky."_

The flashback ended and shot the drummer back into the present day where he could still taste the kiss on his lips.

When his eyes met John’s, the bassist looked flooded with guilt. “Shit… I-I’m sorry, Roger. I just… I-I don’t know why I did that. Fuck…” He looked almost scared now.

Roger’s brows came together before he looked at John searchingly. So many questions were rolling around in his head but he didn’t know which one to ask first. “Did… did I give you mixed signals…? I mean, I didn’t mean to, if I did.”

John shook his head. “No, I’m so sorry, Rog. Really, I am.”

The drummer stood up and looked at him. A part of him was wondering if John was actually the one who was taking advantage of his accident and his memory loss, but looking at the terrified bassist, it didn’t actually seem to be that way. He looked scared and panicked, like he knew the kiss had been an mistake.

“John, are you…?” He looked at him in surprise. “Are you gay?”

The other man was looking unsure as his eyes darted around and he shrugged helplessly. “I-I don’t know. I haven’t felt like this before  except..." He trailed off before coming back again. "I’m really sorry, Roger.”

Roger sighed, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to break his friend’s heart like this. “I-I’m with Brian…”

John nodded quickly and touched his own lips. “I-I know. I know. I’m really sorry, Rog. I shouldn’t have done that. Please, don’t tell Brian about this? I made a mistake and I don’t know what I was thinking! Please Rog, please don’t tell him.”

The drummer felt the exact same way so he shook his head. “I’m not about to, John. It’s okay.” He felt guilty about keeping what happened a secret, but he figured that this could ruin what he has with Brian, ruin the friendship the three of them had, and perhaps even tear the band apart with jealousy and conflict.

When Roger searched John’s face again, he saw tears in the man’s eyes and felt his heart sink. He walked over to him and hugged him close. “Don’t worry, Deaky. It’s going to be all right. I promise.”

He felt him hug him back tightly and he realized now that they had a dirty little secret that no one else could know about, and perhaps this made them closer by default. After a while, he moved away from him and saw John wipe his eyes.

“How long, Deaky?” He asked softly, needing to know.

His cheeks turned red. “S-Since the night of the first gig we all did t-together,” he said shakily, smiling weakly. “I-I’m sorry again, Roger. I promise I won’t do it again…”

The blonde nodded and gave him a small smile. He felt something towards the younger man, but he didn’t feel that way towards him. He loved him as friend, and a brother. He gently squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

“I know… and it can’t happen again, but I’m not about to tell Brian about this, so… you’re in the clear. Let’s keep this between the two of us. I’m going to go out and see if I can help Brian, but I’ll check in on you later, okay, mate?”

John nodded and gave a thankful smile before Roger left the room and walked out to where Brian was. Instant guilt flooded into Roger just seeing the guitarist’s face but he tried his best to remain calm. “Can I help you?”

Brian smiled and handed him a plate with a sandwich on it and a cup of tea. “For Freddie. How’s John doing? He can come out here…”

Roger nodded and smiled back. “He’s fine. I’ll give this to Freddie.” He grabbed the cup of tea and the plate before he walked towards Freddie’s room.

He knew what he was doing might backfire in his face one day, keeping John’s kiss from him, but he felt like he didn’t need to know about it. Roger didn’t want to risk losing the older man, and he also hoped he could patch things back up between Brian and John again.

As he walked into Freddie’s room, he was almost glad to be away from the other two, finding comfort and normality in the singer’s loving and stubborn personality.


	11. hospital beds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the super short chapter but I'll make up or it in the next one! 
> 
> Also, a HUGE thank you for everyone who has commented and read this story. If you like my writing, and you haven't yet already, feel free to go read my other Bohemian Rhapsody fanfics that I've written :) 
> 
> Lastly, for anyone who's curious, this story (and all my fics for that matter) is what writing everything by ear and not having the whole story written out already looks like! haha. So forgive me if everything is bananas, crackers, and nuts as you read it!

**.    .    .**

“Do you remember anything?”

Roger looked up from the medical textbook as he sat in the chair near the bed, reading various chapters from it in an attempt to remember anything from university.

He shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. Some of these things rings a bell, like I vaguely remember it, but no flashbacks or anything,” he rubbed his eyes, feeling the strain of reading for so long taking a toll. “How’re you feeling, Freddie?”

The singer also shrugged but he was smiling softly. “Still a bit sore, but I suppose that’s normal for what I’ve just gone through. Besides that, I feel just fine, Rog.”

Roger scoffed but was smirking a bit cheekily. “Liar. You’re in agony. Your ribs are broken, but you’re just saying you’re fine so we don’t have to throw you in the van and drag you to hospital to have them fixed.”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Oh Rog, stop being so dramatic. My ribs aren’t _broken._ If anything, they’re probably just sprained or something.”

The drummer closed the book and set it on the bedside table again, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh, I’m sorry, mate. Which one of us has been to medical school again?”

The singer chuckled before he chucked a pillow in Roger’s direction and then suddenly hissed in pain after throwing it.

Roger caught the pillow and sighed. “Oh yeah, you’re perfectly fine, Freddie. My mistake.” He set the pillow back down before he collapsed on the bed beside Freddie, watching him. 

His closeness surprised him slightly and he looked over at him. He gave him a warm smile.

Roger returned the smile before he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, feeling so tired. He had stayed in the singer’s room for most of the day with only a couple interruptions from Brian for food and tea. He was sure that he shouldn’t feel this tired, though; he’d barely done anything of real activity, besides the kiss from John earlier, but he wasn’t about to count that.

“It’s only four o’ clock, darling. Are you _actually_ tired right now? You haven’t done anything all day.”

“I know,” Roger yawned, agreeing with him. “I just have a headache. I’ll be all right.” He could feel Freddie’s eyes on him but he didn’t open his own. It just felt better if he kept his eyes closed.

“A headache?” He felt Freddie’s cool hand on his forehead. “You’re a bit warm, darling. Perhaps we should take your temperature. You could be coming down with something.”

Roger shook his head and scoffed. “I’m fine, Freddie. Really. Just… a lot of excitement. The flashbacks are probably just getting to me.” He finally opened his eyes to look at the singer.

“Perhaps,” Freddie agreed, but it was evident in his voice that he didn’t quite believe him.

He saw the other man start to casually stroke his hair, and it must have been relaxing for Roger because he felt himself soon fall asleep.

 

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

**  
** “Roger? Rog… come on, love. Time to wake up,” a soft voice encouraged him as a gentle hand shook him from his sleeping state.

“Mmm…” he mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes to see what was going on. “What?”

Brian was looking at him with concerned eyes. “You fell asleep, mate. Come on, let’s go to bed, yeah? Freddie needs to rest too and since you take up half the bed, you’re going to sleep with me tonight. Come on…”

Roger groggily forced himself out of bed and took Brian’s hand, letting him lead them to their room. He was half awake as he looked back at the singer who had also fallen asleep. When they walked back to their room, he instantly collapsed into the bed on his stomach and curled up under the comforter.

The bed shifted and then he felt a warm hand touch his back under his shirt. “Are you feeling alright, Rog?”

The drummer contemplated lying to Brian but he was already lying to him about other things. He didn’t want to keep everything from the one person who could help him if he couldn’t help himself. This was probably medically important for his boyfriend to know about, should something happen.

“I’m sleepy, and I have a headache,” Roger complained softly, turning his head to look at Brian.

The guitarist looked at him with sympathy in his eyes and caressed Roger’s back lovingly. “Do you want some aspirin?”

Roger was hurting but he shook his head before he pulled Brian down beside him and buried himself against his chest. Then, he felt the older man wrap his arms around him and cover him back up before he fell asleep with Roger in his arms.

 

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

  
“Brian! Roger! Wake up!”

The urgent voice forced both men to open their eyes and sit up quickly, looking around as if they half expected the flat to be on fire. Instead, they were met with a panicked John staring at them with wide eyes.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Brian asked, fully awake now.

“It’s Freddie,” John explained quickly. “He said he’s scared and he’s having a really difficult time breathing and he’s having headaches.”

Roger felt his something inside him ignite and despite his own headache he was feeling, he pulled on a pair of pants. Brian watched him and stood up, doing the same, adrenaline rushing through all of them now.

“What’s going on, Rog?”

He remembered reading this part in the book. They were symptoms. He looked between both alarmed men. “Freddie’s ribs are fractured. We need to get him to the hospital now.”

“All right, you two get Freddie and I’ll go start the van.”

Everyone seemed to be in agreement with that and John and Roger both quickly walked inside Freddie’s room. When Roger looked at the singer, he noticed how pale he was, how sweat was beading on his body and how he seemed to almost be gasping for air.

“Come on, Fred,” John said gently as he helped the singer into pants, at least before giving him a blanket to wrap himself up in. “We’re going to the hospital now. Brian’s already in the van.”

To Roger’s surprise, Freddie didn’t argue and the three of them walked quickly to the van, helping Freddie get into the back first with John before Roger climbed into the passenger seat beside Brian, but kept turning his head to keep an eye on Freddie.

It was a short drive to the hospital and as soon as they told the doctor the singer’s symptoms, several other doctors and nurses helped him on a gurney and wheeled him away into ER, leaving Roger, Brian, and John all standing in the waiting room.

“He’ll be okay,” Brian said to both Roger and John, but the former man figured that was for his own benefit.

John nodded in agreement and chewed on his lip a bit before he cleared his throat and looked over at them. “I’m going to go get us all some coffee. Be back shortly.”

Brian nodded and Roger gave him a reassuring smile before watching his friend disappear. The guitarist looked over at Roger and searched his face. “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” he lied, sitting down in a chair, holding onto the blanket he had wrapped around Freddie earlier. He rubbed his head and then closed his eyes to stop the fluorescent hospital lighting from hurting his pupils.

Brian’s brows came together and he sat down beside him close, watching him. “Do you still have your headache?” When Roger nodded, he bit his lip. “Anything else?”

Roger sighed. “I’m nauseous, dizzy, and my fingers are feeling a bit numb.”

Brian stiffened now and he swallowed hard. “I’m going to go get someone. Stay right here, Rog. I mean it.”

Roger reached out quickly to try and grab Brian to stop him but it was too late; he was alone now, and he regret telling him his symptoms. While he had been hanging out with Freddie in his room last night, he had read up on traumatic brain injury, so he knew what this was, and what was about to happen.

He hadn’t wanted to be alone when it did happen, but here he was.

_He needed to find Brian. Fast._

He started to stand up, but then suddenly, he lost consciousness and everything went black…

 

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

**  
** When he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital gown in a bed and his headache felt worse than before, fatigue also taking over his body.

His muscles hurt like hell.

“Jesus Rog, you scared the bloody piss out of me, you know that?”

The drummer looked over and only now noticed a fearful looking Brian watching him carefully. He rubbed his head. “W-What happened…?”

Brian handed him a styrofoam cup of water. “What happened is I came back to have a doctor look at you, and you were on the floor, convulsing. Fuck, Rog, I was so scared! I’m sorry I left you. I shouldn’t have done that.” He put his face in his hand in distress.

Roger felt like this was his fault. He knew what had been about to happen and he didn’t tell Brian, but he felt like not scaring the older man was a good excuse for it. He reached out and touched his knee softly.

“I’m alright, Bri. I’m really fucking tired right now, actually, but I’m okay.”

Brian bit his lip and now he looked at Roger with somewhat stern eyes. “Did you know about it? Did you know you were about to have a seizure, Rog?”

“I thought that I _might_ ,” he gave a guilty look. “It was a grand-mal seizure, I think, from what I’ve read. It’s common for people with a traumatic brain injury to have them, but… sometimes people only have one, and they don’t have them again. It also explains my headaches.”

Brian looked like he wanted to reprimand the drummer for knowing and not telling, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he placed his hand in Roger’s and squeezed it tightly as tears formed in his eyes. Roger swallowed hard, watching Brian wipe at his eyes and sniffle, feeling his heart break.

“Christ, Rog,” Brian’s voice broke suddenly. “I thought I was going to l-lose you…” He put his hand in his free hand again before looking away, roughly wiping the tears that had fallen.

“Sorry, Bri. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily,” Roger tried to cheer him up. He wasn’t sure what else to say so he just gave his hand another reassuring squeeze.

It took several minutes but Brian finally managed to get himself under control and he took a deep breath. Roger looked at the guitarist now, worry edged in his chest.

“What’s going on with Freddie? Is he all right?”

Brian looked over at him and nodded. “Y-Yeah, yeah. Umm… John’s with him right now but… the doctor said they took x-rays and CT scans and that his ribs will heal themselves in about six weeks’ time. He has to rest and the doctor gave me a prescription for Freddie to take once he gets out of here but they want to keep him overnight.”

“And me?”

Brian’s face fell a little and he searched Roger’s eyes. “Being that you’ve been in here for a brain injury last week, and just had a seizure, they want to keep you here for a couple nights.”

Roger scoffed and shook his head. “Fascists…”

“I’m going to stay here with you, so don’t worry, all right?”

This made the drummer give Brian his full attention. “No way. You’ve already been through this with me once before. You should go home and sleep. It’s ridiculous of you to stay here with me.”

“Why? Because I love and care about you?” There was a tenseness in his voice.

“No,” Roger shook his head. “It’s ridiculous because you guys have been practically living here because of me and now, here we are again. For real, Bri. Go home… you’ll be much more comfortable there.”

“Of course I would but I’d much prefer to stay here with you. I want to be here in case… in case you have another seizure or in case you _just_ need me.” Brian ran a hand through his mop of hair tiredly, still holding Roger’s hand tenderly, caressing it in his own still.

Roger felt pangs of guilt eating at him as he felt Brian’s skin stroke his. Not just because the guitarist was choosing to stay here because of him, but also because of the kiss he had had with John earlier. Even though he felt a love towards the younger man, he knew that he didn’t love him, but regardless, because he was simply human, the kiss had felt nice. He shouldn’t have kissed him back, but he had, and now he was being punished for it.

Or at least that’s what he thought. Whether it was true or not was another story.

He should tell Brian. He should tell him about the kiss, even if it didn’t mean anything. Roger felt nauseous but he wasn’t sure if that was a symptom of his brain injury still or the guilt. If he told him now, the other man might get up and walk out on him, and he didn’t want to be alone.

Plus, he had told John that neither of them were going to tell Brian about the kiss. If John found out that Roger had told him the truth about it, he might be angry, and the fact that it even happened in the first place might cause a rift between the three of them.

The bad things were outweighing the good things, so he decided to keep his mouth shut. Overthinking about it was making his headache split down his skull and he groaned in pain.

Brian snapped his eyes over to him apprehensively. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

The drummer was about to shake his head no, but the pain was to becoming too much for him to handle. He nodded quickly, releasing Brian’s hand to rub his head with his fingers. He heard him stand up quickly and wave down a nurse in the hallway who came in to check on Roger anyway.

“Traumatic brain injury symptoms can have long term effects so I’m not surprised you’re still in pain, Mr. Taylor,” the nurse spoke softly as she stuck a needle into a small container of morphine. “It’s especially common after having a seizure.”

“Told you,” Roger smirked weakly at Brian, who didn’t look amused.

“Shut up, love.”

“I’m going to inject this bit of morphine into your IV now, and it’ll most likely make you drowsy or make you fall asleep, but I promise you won’t be feeling any pain,” the nurse did so now and smiled when she saw Roger relax in his bed as it took effect after a few moments. “I’ll come and check in on you later this morning.”

Roger watched her leave, feeling like he could fall asleep right now but tried to force himself to keep his eyes open, looking over at Brian. “What time is it…?”

Brian glanced at the clock on the wall. “Almost half six. We’ve been here for about three hours.”

It explained why he could see the sunrise outside his window. He sighed sleepily. “I want to see Freddie,” he nearly whined. “I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Brian smiled. “Sorry, you can’t, yet. I’ll make sure that he says goodbye to you before he leaves tomorrow, if you don’t see him before then,” he watched him yawn and gently caressed Roger’s cheek. “Go ahead and sleep. I’m just going to go check in on him and John and then I’ll be back here to stay with you, all right?”

Roger nodded and then felt his eyelids become too heavy for him to fight off the sleep any longer, and instead gave himself into it.


	12. party planning

**.    .    .**

  
When Roger opened his eyes again, it was light outside and he saw someone standing over him. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and saw it was Freddie, dressed and ready to go.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” the singer teased lightheartedly, smiling at Roger. “How’re you feeling, dear? Brian told me what happened in the waiting room.”

“Of course he did,” he snorted before he stretched his body and then sat up so he could face his friend. “I’m better. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he echoed back. “They’re discharging me, in fact. Brian told me they’re keeping you another few nights, though. I’ll come back with John later to check on you.”

Roger shook his head. “No, I’m fine. You don’t have to do that. Just visit me tomorrow, yeah? I have Brian here with me. It’s just a waste of petrol if you have to keep visiting me twice a day. You should be resting anyway.”

Freddie gave him a reluctant smile. “As you wish, darling. Oh, since John’s going to be taking care of me at the flat, he wanted to say goodbye you to as well before we both left. I’m going to go make myself comfortable in the van while you two talk.”

Roger carefully hugged him goodbye and watched him walk out before watching John walk in. For some reason, he felt his heart hammering wildly in his ribcage, perhaps out of memory of the secret they were keeping. He watched him close the door behind him before walking over to the drummer until they were inches apart.

“Hey, Deaky,” Roger greeted.

“Hey… it’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling? Still having headaches?”

Roger shrugged. “A little. I think the morphine’s wearing off. If I was ever to be addicted to something, I’m pretty sure it’d be morphine.”

This made John chuckle. “Fair enough.”

“Where’s Brian?”

“I believe he’s downstairs getting more coffee,” John answered, shifting his weight a bit nervously as he looked at Roger. The way he was looking at him made the blonde nervous, thinking he might attempt to kiss him again, but he didn’t. Instead, the younger man moved away but the tension was still there.

John was searching his eyes before he looked down at the bed. “D-Do you remember the time when we first met? You… you were smiling at me and at that point, I just knew that I could smash the audition. I had been so nervous before but when you did that, I felt like I could do anything.”

Roger’s heart sunk and he swallowed hard. He looked at him before he shook his head. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Deaky…”

“Why not?”

“It’s a bit intimate, isn’t it?” Roger asked rhetorically, looking at him before he brought his voice to a whisper. “We kissed but that was a mistake, and it’s not happening again,” he declared.

John nodded and his eyes looked sad, but accepting. He cleared his throat anxiously. “Well, I don’t want to leave Freddie alone for too long. We need to go pick up his prescription. When do you want us to visit you again?”

Roger mentally hit himself for telling Freddie that they could come tomorrow. He looked at him. “Don’t worry about it. You’re going to be busy taking care of him. You should stay with him, just to make sure he’s alright. I’ll see you when I get discharged in a couple more days.”

“You sure, Rog? Brian could take my shift to watch him so I can visit you.”

“I’m sure,” Brian nodded, smiling softly. “Thank you, though. Really. Brian wants to stay here with me anyway to make sure I don’t make a break for it,” he joked.

John laughed again. “All right, then. If you’re sure. I suppose I’ll see you in a couple days. Feel better, mate.”

Roger gave him a hug when he moved in for it and things felt odd when they touched. It felt almost like an electrical shock as his stomach gave him a flip. “Thanks, John.”

The two parted and John waved him goodbye as he walked out of the room. A few minutes later, he saw Brian walk into the room with two cups of coffee, handing one to Roger who gratefully took it and then took a sip from it.

“Oh thank Christ,” Roger said as he swallowed the caffeine. “How’d you manage to clear it with the nurses?”

“Easy, I told them if you couldn’t have any coffee, you’d be a suicide risk,” Brian answered in a tone that made Roger know that he wasn’t serious. “Anyway, I figured you’d be going crazy not being able to smoke in here.”

“You’re right, Bri. I _am_ going crazy. I’d be a lot better if I could get out of here.”

Brian sighed and sat down in the chair. “A couple more days, love. How are you feeling?”

“Fuck, if I hear one more person ask me how I’m doing, I really will jump out that bloody window! For the hundredth time, I’m fine.” Roger took another long sip from the coffee and the two were quiet for a long time.

Brian sipped his own coffee and the drummer felt paranoia as he felt like his better half might know what had happened between him and John, but he didn’t give any indication if he did. He felt a hand move along his back when he sat up to drink and saw Brian smile lovingly at him, another pang of guilt swallowing him hard when their eyes locked.

A depressing thought crossed Roger’s mind, one that he didn’t want to reiterate aloud, out of fear of making Brian uneasy: would he be in the hospital often like this with splitting headaches and seizures? He had told Brian that he might not have another seizure again, but he didn’t actually know for sure. All he had to work off of was his textbooks from a college he still didn’t remember attending in the first place.

Then he decided that he didn’t want to think about anything anymore. He finished his coffee and placed the cup on the table.

“Can you see about getting me more morphine, Bri? My head’s still killing me,” he said half truthfully. His head _did_ still hurt a fair amount.

Brian searched Roger’s face hesitantly before he nodded and stood up. “Yeah, sure.”

Once he had been able to flag down their nurse, she injected a small amount of it into Roger’s IV and soon the drummer felt himself drift off into dreamless slumber.

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

  
The next forty-eight hours passed without another incident for Roger, and the drummer was glad when Brian finally drove him back home to the flat.

Nothing exciting even happened for the next six weeks since Freddie was basically stuck in bed to rest until his ribs fully healed.

Once they had and the singer felt better, he started joining the other men in the living room to drink tea, play Scrabble, and hang out. One afternoon as they were sitting on the couch with their legs draped over each other, Freddie cleared his throat, causing the others to look over at him expectantly.

“Something you wish to say, Freddie?” John asked with slight amusement in his voice.

“Yes, in fact. I was thinking we should have a grand party, now that I’m fully healed up.”

Brian raised his eyebrows. “A party, here? I don’t think there’s enough room to hold everyone here, especially if some of the guests are fans and strangers.”

“Exactly,” Freddie nodded. “We’ll go to our other place in London, it’s much bigger! It’ll hold everyone, and then some.”

The guys looked around at each other with anxious eyes and Roger got the feeling that John and Brian didn’t exactly prefer the other place as much as they did this one, even though it was probably a lot smaller and more modest.

“Sure, Freddie,” Brian played along. “Perhaps we should have a get together to celebrate you being all healed up. We won’t have time once we go on our next tour until it’s over, and that could be awhile.”

“Really?” Freddie sounded surprised when he looked over at Brian who had Roger’s head resting on his chest as he lay on his side.

Brian nodded. “Yeah, really. I think it’s a good idea.”

John looked over at the guitarist almost skeptically but when Freddie looked over at him, he also nodded in agreement. “Sure, Fred. When do you want to have it?”

“I want to have it tomorrow!”

Roger felt Brian tense a little under him. “Tomorrow? That doesn’t exactly give us enough time to get ready.”

Freddie grinned. “We’ll have it tomorrow evening, then! We’ll have plenty of time, Brian. Don’t be so boorish. I’ll call up everyone I know and let them know about it.”

“Are we expected to set everything up, then?” John asked.

“Of course not, darling!” Freddie stretched out his limbs he had draped across the bassist. “I’ll do everything! Don’t worry about a thing, any of you.”

“I like this,” Brian chuckled. “A party where the only thing I have to do is show up.”

They played another game of Scrabble before eating dinner and then all of them headed off to bed early as a way to kill time until tomorrow. They had gone several weeks with hardly any excitement that didn’t involve the hospital and one of them hurt, and it became clear to Roger that they were actually welcoming this party as a way to escape.

When they woke up late the next morning, they heard the sound of breaking glass, and then cursing.

“ _Fucking hell!”_

Brian and Roger were the first ones to wake up in concerned alertness and they quickly hurried out to the living room to see what was happening. The first thing they saw was red.

Freddie looked apologetically over at them as he held up his foot that was dripping blood onto the rug. “I am sorry, darlings. I didn’t mean to wake you up… I just… had a bit of an accident.”

“Rog, help him onto the couch. I’ll go get the first aid kit,” Brian instructed, worry in his voice before he disappeared.

Roger nodded and then hurried over to Freddie and helped him limp over to the couch, glancing around at the mess near them. “What were you doing?”

The singer waved his arms dramatically in the air. “The lightbulb blew and I was simply trying to change it out with another one, and it slipped out of my hand, dropping on the floor. I was backing off the ladder and lost my balance and then my foot slipped and I stepped on the glass.”

Roger looked around for something he could use to stop the bleeding but came up empty, and opted for waiting for Brian instead. When the older man came back a minute later and handed the first aid kit to Roger, almost questioningly at first, the blonde felt instinct kick in and went straight to work plucking out any little shards of glass out of Freddie’s foot first, placing the pieces on the coffee table in the ashtray.

He hadn’t even read up on how to help someone in this situation, and he didn’t know if he was working off muscle memory again or if it was just common sense, but he was grateful either way. It was when he was in the middle of disinfecting the area and wrapping gauze around his foot when John came in.

“Is everyone all right? I heard glass breaking…”

Brian smiled at John reassuringly. “Yeah, Fred just stepped on a broken lightbulb, apparently.”

John moved in closer and glanced up at the place where the lightbulb came from before he looked back down at the singer. “Why are you trying to replace lightbulbs when we’re not even going to be here later? I’m assuming we’ll be sleeping at our other house in London.”

“We are, dear, but that’s not the point,” Freddie sighed exaggeratedly. “I just wanted to have it done for when we came back here again. We’re not staying at the other place until we die or anything. We _do_ have to come back here again.”

“Well, technically we don’t, but we like it here better anyway,” Brian corrected, shrugging.

Roger finished up with Freddie’s foot and then grabbed the bloody paper towels he had used to help stop the bleeding and grabbed the ashtray before going into the kitchen and dumping everything into the garbage. He came back out and placed the clean ashtray on the coffee table again before grabbing the first aid kit and taking it into the bathroom.

It took him a couple minutes to find where Brian had gotten it from, and when he turned around, he saw the very same man looking at him almost proudly.

“You did a good job, patching Freddie up,” he commended, smiling.

Roger smiled back. “Thanks. It was weird, though. It felt like a reflex, doing all that. It really isn’t a big deal, though, Bri. Either of you could’ve done it too.”

Brian chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think I could’ve. I was getting nauseous just watching you handle all the blood and glass, and John’s forte is electrical engineering so I think he would’ve had more luck with replacing the lightbulb than Freddie.”

Brian’s words made Roger feel proud of himself now. He turned around and almost instantly felt Brian’s lips attack his and his body gently force him against the sink. Roger kissed him back passionately, feeling the guitarist’s hand cup his cheek and softly thumb his skin.

“Oh fuck, Rog… what you do to me,” Brian growled as he kissed the drummer’s jaw and down his neck.

The drummer felt his body start to react to Brian’s own passion and felt the man start to kneel before him. He groaned in pleasure but he felt the other man undo his belt and then heard a knock on the half-opened door.

Brian quickly stood up in front of Roger, most likely protecting the massive boner he knew his boyfriend currently had.

“Y-Yeah?”

John was at the door, smirking softly when he saw both men looking flustered. “Just wanted to tell you that I have Freddie in the van and we’re going to head over now to get everything set up. Are you two ready or do you need a minute?”

Roger quickly fixed himself behind Brian, feeling glad for his broad structure he could hide behind, pulling at his pants.

“We’ll be out in a minute, John,” Brian announced and waited until John left before he turned around and joined Roger in a laugh.

“Fuck…”

Suddenly, Brian shut and locked the door before he kneeled down in front of Roger again, quickly undoing his belt and pants. Roger gasped, not having expected him to do this, but he wasn’t about to stop him. Time was of the essence, and he knew that this wasn’t going to take long for him.

When he felt Brian’s lips wrap around him, Roger clutched at the skin and groaned in pleasure, flashbacks snapping in his head like pictures being taken as it showed his various girlfriends doing the same gesture for him.

The flashbacks were briefer than the other ones, thankfully, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw Brian looking up at him as he continued to take him in his mouth.

Roger let his fingers get lost in Brian’s curls and moved his hands down to the man’s shoulders as he got closer and closer. “Oh god, Bri… I-I’m… I’m gonna –"

Before he could finish, he felt himself explode in the other man’s mouth, groaning loudly as he saw stars cloud his vision in ecstasy. Once that had subsided, he looked to see Brian standing near the sink, brushing his teeth. When he spit into the sink, he looked at Roger very cheekily.

“Was that good?”

Roger chuckled. “No, Bri. It was bloody awful,” he teased, smirking. “Not sure if I ever want it again, to be honest.”

The guitarist snickered and rolled his eyes before he wiped his of toothpaste. “Come on. We should get going.”

“Right,” Roger adjusted his pants and fixed his clothes before he kissed Brian’s lips on his way out of the bathroom and the two men walked out to the van to head over to their other, much larger place.

 

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

**  
** “No, I want that there!”

They had spent nearly three hours decorating the expansive house, getting ready for the party that Freddie had promised he was going to do himself, and Roger could feel his anger getting the best of him.

“Fuck, Freddie! I had it there before and you told me to move it!”

“No,” Freddie rectified, “You had it a few inches off of where I wanted it… I want you to hang that right there, Roger… just there.”

Roger jumped off the chair and suddenly felt himself storming towards the singer threateningly. “I’m going to hang _you_ there in a minute!”

“Hey!” Brian intermediated, quickly jumping between the two of them, putting his hands on Roger’s chest. “Take it easy, Rog! Just relax, yeah?”

The drummer tried taking a deep breath, still looking at Freddie who hadn’t gotten up and was still sitting in a nearby chair with his foot up across from him on another chair.

“I would do it myself, but as you can see, Rog, I’m incapable of standing on a ladder…”

Roger scoffed and shook his head.

“You said _you_ would do this! You promised us we wouldn’t even have to do anything except be at this bloody soiree!”

The singer looked at him in surprise. “Wow, Roger. I’m impressed. That’s at least a twenty-point word in Scrabble. I didn’t even know you knew that word!”

Brian had to hold Roger back with more force now when the blonde lunged at Freddie who nearly fell off his chair in an attempt to get away from Roger’s line of fire. He gently pushed Roger away from them and looked at him sternly.

“Enough! Just knock it off, both of you.”

“He started it,” Freddie accused as a last retort.

“Oh, shut up!” Brian scolded, shaking his head. “Roger, go outside and have a smoke. I’ll be out there in a minute. Where’s John?”

“I believe he went to his room upstairs.”

Brian sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “All right. I’m going to finish up here real quick, then.”

Roger stormed outside, making sure to slam doors as hard as he could behind him before he took out a cigarette and placed it between his lips before lighting it. As he inhaled the nicotine, he couldn’t deny feeling a little better. He didn’t know when he had ever felt so angry at Freddie, but he felt like it had happened before with the singer.

He was halfway through his cigarette when he saw Brian come out, looking sweaty and exhausted from hanging things up where Freddie wanted them.

“Hey, feeling any better, Rog?”

The drummer nodded and took another drag from the cigarette, feeling his nerves loosen up a bit more as the nicotine did its job in his body.

“Good.  Not feeling homicidal anymore?” When Roger shook his head and smirked weakly, Brian spoke again. “Sometimes he can be a handful.”

“I can too, though, I bet.”

Brian smirked now, shrugging. “Only when you haven’t had your daily nicotine,” he admitted. “So what do you think about this party?”

If Roger was being honest, he wasn’t a fan of the idea and it made him uneasy. “I-I’m not going to remember anyone at this thing. What do I do if they remember me but I don’t remember them?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, love. Everyone knows about your accident. That was one thing we weren’t able to hide from the press. Someone from the hospital also told them about your memory loss as well, so they know about that too. They’re not going to laugh at you about any of it, and if they do, Freddie will probably kill them,” Brian chuckled.

Roger smiled weakly and nodded. “All right.”

“You can stay close to me during it, too, if you want. You don’t have to, of course, but if you feel uncomfortable being alone or whatever, feel free.”

Roger smiled at that thought and nodded again. “That sounds good.”

Brian wrapped his arms around the younger man and stayed like that for a long time before he kissed his head and finally released him to let Roger finish his cigarette. “I have a couple more things to do, but then I’ll be all done. Come in when you’re ready.”

Roger watched him go inside and he took his time to finish his cigarette before he put it out with his foot and also went back in.

When he entered, he saw Freddie giving Brian instructions of where to put things and decided he didn’t want to be around the singer yet. He headed upstairs to look for John, glancing in all the rooms until he got to the room that John had claimed dibs on when they had bought the huge house, knocking and slowly opening the door.

A large cloud of smoke suddenly came out of John’s mouth in surprise and he started to cough on it, his eyes wide as a familiar, yet foreign smell reached the drummer’s nose.

He knew that smell, somehow.

Suddenly flashes popped up in Roger’s head.

_Flashes of the four friends sitting in their van post show passing around a joint, the smell of weed filling the vehicle._

_All of them coughing as they laughed hysterically about something._

_Even Brian taking a few puffs off the joint as well as he laughed and grinned brightly, his eyes shining with pure happiness and peacefulness._

Roger was brought back to the present and he closed the door before he walked over to John, chuckling. “Deaky, are you smoking a spliff?”

“No,” the bassist lied, before he suddenly giggled now and handed it to Roger as an offering.

Roger laughed as well and then took it before he took a puff off of it and coughed instantly, quickly exhaling the smoke into the air. It was going to be an interesting party.


	13. deer in headlights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I know this is another short chapter but it's pretty action packed.

**.    .    .**

 

Roger stayed upstairs with John for almost an hour, and by the time they were exiting the room, they could hear the party in full effect and both of them were giggling and hanging onto the railing as they half staggered downstairs.

He wasn’t sure when or how, but at some point, the two of them gotten separated in the seat of people who were now drinking and laughing and talking to each other. He had opted for a cigarette once they had finished the joint off and he had that between his fingers after shakily lighting it, politely touching the backs of people to squeeze his way through, looking for Brian.

 Roger wanted to be with Brian, like the guitarist had said he could. If he was honest, he didn’t trust himself right now around John, as much as he cared for him. He wanted to be near his boyfriend but couldn’t find him anywhere.

He walked into the kitchen where people were gathered and grabbed a bottle of beer before twisting off the top and taking a long pull from it. He drank it more quickly than he thought he would, his mouth feeling dry and thirsty. He finished it within minutes before grabbing another and took a sip before he started to navigate his way through the crowd until he saw Freddie sitting in a corner of the room, surrounded by people but not looking too happy.

He walked over to him, nearly tripping when he misjudged the singer’s position in the room. He saw Freddie with his arm out to try to stabilize the drummer, a small smile on his face.

“Are you all right, darling?”

Roger nodded, unable to form the words in his mouth without cackling like an idiot. He had taken more tokes than John, and he was really feeling good right now. He took another sip of his beer and tried to get serious with Freddie.

He had forgotten about the fight they had had earlier entirely that he was confused why Freddie was looking at him a bit timidly.

“Are we okay, Rog?”

“Yeah,” the drummer nodded enthusiastically, chuckling. “Of course we are. We’re great, in fact.”

Freddie chuckled now and leaned closer to look at Roger. “Rog, darling… are you high, by chance? What did you take? You’re acting very strange indeed.”

Roger couldn’t help but snicker again as he drank another long drink of beer. “Just a bit of weed, Freddie. Nothing too bad. Are you going to rat me out to Brian?”

Freddie grinned but shook his head. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t even know where to look for him right now anyway.”

The drummer suddenly remembered his mission and he leaned into Freddie to be heard over the chatter and the music. “Have you seen Brian, by the way? I’m sort of looking for him.”

Freddie took a drink of his champagne. “The last I saw him, he went off with a woman and they were talking about something. I think you shouldn’t worry about him though, and enjoy yourself at the party.”

Roger shrugged and gave a smile in return before he gently patted the singer on the back. He finished off his second beer rather quickly and took a drag off his cigarette, flying high right now.

_Fuck, he felt so good right now._

His headache was gone and he still felt tired, but in a good way. The only complaint he had was that he was feeling a bit dizzy and anxious, but he figured that was probably the joint he had smoked earlier.

He spent about a half hour looking around the bottom floor for Brian, and when he didn’t find him, he moved upstairs and started to look in the rooms. His heart was in his throat, almost afraid of what he might find behind one of the doors. Roger noticed one of the doors to a room wasn’t fully closed, and he heard voices coming from inside, but he couldn’t hear them from where he was.

He moved closer, being careful not to make any sounds before he peered inside and saw Brian standing relatively close to a pretty, brunette-haired woman.

“I can make you feel good, Brian,” she purred to him.

Roger felt something he identified as jealousy and betrayal run through him like a river.

“I feel quite fine, actually, thank you, Chrissy…” Brian smiled softly. “Come on, let’s get back downstairs, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “After this, though.”

Roger looked on as he watched her kiss Brian through the narrow slit of the open door. He knew he shouldn’t, but he continued to watch, and then regretted it.

Brian wasn’t pushing her away. In fact, he had kissed her back.

Roger quickly stood back up and hurried downstairs, nearly falling as he lost his balance on a stair, catching himself with a hand on the railing before he tried to take deep breaths, trying to process what had happened.

_This was karma. This was his karma for letting John kiss him before. He deserved what he got._

It still stung, though, and he felt nauseous. He needed air.

Roger hurried outside, out of sight of the windows before he suddenly leaned over in the shrubs and suddenly emptied his stomach, tasting some of the alcohol from a few minutes ago. His head was spinning, and he wasn’t sure it was the weed still.

He wiped his mouth quickly and then took a deep breath before lighting another cigarette and taking a long drag from it, trying to relax. His heart was pounding erratically in his chest, and his headache was back.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps and cleared his throat to make it look like he hadn’t just been sick in the bushes.

“Roger? Are you okay?”

_John._

Roger looked over and saw the younger man look at him with genuine concern in his eyes. He nodded. “Yeah, I-I’m fine, Deaky. Thanks…”

John walked over to him and examined the man’s face with his eyes. “I was worried about you. I saw you rush out here. Did something happen?”

_I just caught Brian kissing someone else._

He didn’t want to cause conflict between John and Brian, nor did he want John to feel embarrassed about kissing him several weeks ago. It was better to keep it a secret.

More secrets. Roger felt filled to the brim with them.

“I just… needed some air. It’s stuffy in there,” Roger replied weakly, cringing when he heard his voice crack, and then saw his vision blurring.

_Damn it, was he fucking crying? Right now?_

He felt John’s had on his shoulder, squeezing them comfortingly. Roger felt himself lean against him, feeling the tears running down his cheeks before he took another drag, blowing the smoke away from the bassist.

He must have cried softly beside his friend for about ten minutes before he finally pulled himself together, and then saw something out of the corner of his eye. He rubbed both of his eyes now in an attempt to rid the tears so he could clear his vision again, and saw John holding out another tightly rolled joint.

“Would you like to again, with me?” He offered quietly, kindly.

Roger nodded. “Y-Yeah, just… let me grab a couple beers and then we can go back to your room to smoke.”

John gave him a soft smile and nodded. “All right. I’ll meet you at the stairs.”

Roger nodded and the two men went back inside before walking in different directions. He walked over and grabbed a glass of champagne that was sitting on the counter with several dozen others and drank it all quickly, just wanting to forget about what he had seen with Brian.

He set the glass back down before he grabbed two more beers and then headed towards the stairs, going back up them to John’s room and closing the door behind them. He saw the bassist put a record on before he lay on his bed, Roger eventually joining him. He handed a beer to John who shook his head politely.

Roger opened it and drank it down halfway before setting it aside, starting to feel a bit drunk. He saw John take a toke from the spliff first before he handed it to Roger, who did the same. He held it in his lungs as long as he could before he finally let himself exhale, coughing slightly.

This was what he wanted. He wanted to forget. He wanted to feel good again. Smoking with John was probably the only thing that was stopping him from jumping off the roof at this moment. Yeah, that was probably a bit dramatic, but he felt like it was true.

Brian didn’t say anything about wanting to be with a woman right now while he was with Roger. He had said he just wanted him, and then something like this happens.

He felt hurt. He felt so much pain inside himself, and he knew he was being a fucking hypocrite after he had kissed John as well. It didn’t really matter who had kissed who anymore, did it? The point was that the kiss had felt nice, and he didn’t exactly stop him right away. He had waited a few moments.

Didn’t that mean that he had liked it too?

It wasn’t fair of Roger to be upset about Brian not pushing her away, but he was.

“Do you want to talk about it, Rog?” A soft voice in the room asked him. He shook his head when John offered him more of the joint and he puffed on it again.

“No, not really,” Roger said honestly, sighing as he closed his eyes, feeling as relaxed as he was probably going to feel right now.

The two men were quiet for several minutes when John suddenly chuckled. “Do you remember our first show? We were so high just off the adrenaline and we all hung out in the van after and smoked together. It felt so amazing. We had so much fun that night.”

“I know,” Roger confessed, nodding, remembering his flashback.

John glanced over at him, and when Roger looked at him, he saw him smiling a bit sadly. “I think that was the night I knew we were going to be more like family than band mates. I hadn’t ever felt closer to anyone else in my life than I had with all of you.”

“I don’t think I have either,” Roger admitted, trying hard to remember his past life and relationships.

Roger felt a hand slip into his own and he didn’t do a lot to stop it.

The alcohol had made his fingers and his mind numb, and the pot had relaxed his muscles. He had felt so relaxed even, that he didn’t do anything when he felt John lean over him suddenly and kiss him.

The kiss felt nice, just like it had before. He felt tears in his eyes as he thought about Brian as he kissed John back, letting one hand get lost in the bassist’s hair. Their tongues crashed over each other’s like waves on an ocean.

It was wrong, but all Roger could think about was Brian. This was him he was kissing right now, not John.

Then he heard an angry voice.

_“What the actual fuck, Roger?”_

John jumped and Roger sat up, looking at a very furious looking Brian. He felt speechless at first, grasping for any excuse he could. He could say how he had seen Brian kissing that woman before, but instead, he just felt guilt and shame fill himself up.

He couldn’t use excuses. He shouldn’t, anyway.

Brian didn’t give him time to come up with one anyway since he spun around and stormed downstairs.

“Fuck!” Roger yelled at no one in particular except maybe at himself. He sighed heavily, his head feeling like it was swimming in jelly as he jumped up off the bed and ran out of the bedroom, following Brian downstairs as quickly as he could, stumbling a few times on his way down.

“Wait, Bri! J-Just let… just let me explain!”

He heard Brian scoff and shake his head, spinning around to look at Roger. “No, Rog. This is brilliant, really! I’m so glad I could walk in on my boyfriend kissing none other than my bandmate! This is fucking great!” He started out of the house quickly.

Roger held his head, feeling another headache coming on fast he followed Brian outside. He heard two sets of footsteps come out behind them and didn’t have to look to know who they belonged to. He needed to calm Brian down before he lost him forever, though. That was the main priority right now.

“Brian, wait! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry, all right?”

“No!” The guitarist yelled, his voice breaking. “It’s not all fucking right, Roger! I love _you_ and then I walk in on you and John! I know how you were before but I thought you might be a different person now! I didn’t want to share you with anyone…”

Roger wiped the tears from his eyes, still chasing after Brian as he got closer to the road. “P-Please, Bri! Please… I’m so sorry… I-I don’t want to share you either! You don’t… you don’t understand, though! W-We were high and I was d-drunk!” He said pathetically, knowing that he was crying again because _of course he fucking was._

“Oh yes! Those are wonderful, original excuses for making out with someone else! _God_ Roger, I thought you were better than that! Those are lines you’d use on your ex-girlfriends when they caught you with someone else! Why couldn’t I be different for you? Actually, no! I don't even want to hear it! I'm done...”

Brian crossed the road, his body stiff in fury. Roger’s eyes were clouded with tears as he began running across the road, unable to see anything except maybe the older man’s mop of dark hair.

“ROGER! ROG! WAIT! STOP!”

He barely processed the voice and where it was coming from when he suddenly felt something hard and metallic hit him violently and felt himself fly up in the air before he came back down hard and then rolled off again into the road.

He gasped for air, and opened his eyes but he couldn’t see anything except red crimson and felt something warm all over his body.

Then he felt himself pass out.


	14. ER to IC

**.    .   .**

Roger’s scream, the screeching of tires, and the sickening sound of Roger’s body hitting something made Brian stop dead in his tracks mid-walk, and then turn around to see the younger man’s body lying on the pavement. The drummer was covered in blood and at first glance it looked like he wasn’t breathing.

He felt fire scream at the back of his throat, fighting back terrified sobs as he ran back over to him and knelt on the ground beside him. His heart was thrashing unmercifully in his chest as he gently touched Roger’s scraped hands.

“Oh fuck… fuck! Roger!” He screamed. “Rog, p-please say something. Please…”

He saw John and Freddie knelt down beside him as well but he also didn’t see them. He couldn’t even look at the bassist right now; he was afraid of what he might do to him.  “C-Call an ambulance!” He cried out to either of them.

He saw a shadow stand up and run back inside the house but he was still looking down at Roger when he head painful gasping and coughing as he sputtered blood up, struggling for breath.

“I-I’m… I’m s-sorry… B-Bri… s-so sorry,” he wheezed on the ground.

All Brian could do through fearful tears was shake his head dismissively, squeezing his hand still. “I-I’m right here, Rog… I’m right here. Please d-don’t leave me. Please…” He examined his body with his eyes quickly and saw his head was bleeding, dampening Roger’s blonde hair red, and his wrist looked like it was laying unnaturally, at an odd angle.

He didn’t even know if Roger’s back was broken or if he had hurt anything else, and he was waiting fearfully for him to have another seizure from the impact of the car. He didn’t know what was broken inside of him, and that was probably more frightening than anything. All he could do was wait until an ambulance came for him.

He looked up now and saw Freddie talking to him, saying something, but he couldn’t hear it. He saw his lips moving but he looked back down again at Roger in his arms, holding him and looking up at the driver who had gotten out of his car to check on him.

“Fuck!” The stranger swore, looking distressed now. “He came out of nowhere, I swear! I didn’t even see him!”

“G-Get out o-of here…” Brian told him weakly.

“W-What…?”

“Get out of here!” He yelled in pain. “Just leave!”

“Wait, darling,” Freddie spoke up, putting his hand up. “The police should probably talk to him… I-I mean… if he leaves, then it’s a hit and run accident.”

Brian couldn’t deal with that right now. He couldn’t deal with going through the police on this. This had been _his_ fault anyway, not the stranger’s. He had done this to Roger. He made the drummer walk out in front of traffic. He shook his head and heard an ambulance siren nearing.

“L-Let him go, Freddie…” he said shakily, nodding to the man who was running his hands through his hair frantically. “We didn’t see the guy who hit Roger… he just… disappeared.” His voice was soft and trembling, perhaps not even aware of what he was saying.

The stranger didn’t wait for Freddie’s approval and jumped into his car before he drove away. Next voice he heard was John’s voice.

“What the hell are you doing?! That piece of shit just hit Roger!!” John yelled.

Brian set his jaw and looked up angrily at the bassist. “What do you prefer I do, John?! I can’t deal with trials and court dates! It was an accident, and it was my fault!”

John stared down at him as the ambulance pulled up and placed Roger on a gurney, nearly tearing him out of Brian’s arms. He saw the guitarist go inside the ambulance with Roger, leaving both of them behind to follow them to the hospital.

Brian never stopped holding Roger’s hand the whole ride there, even when the paramedics were eyeing them suspiciously. He didn’t care about anything right now except the man he loved. He was still angry about what he had seen, but he had to push that aside right now.

The important thing was that Roger lived through this.

When they got to the hospital, the doctors quickly wheeled Roger into ER, leaving the older man standing by himself in the hallway as tears raced down his cheeks. He swallowed hard and suddenly hit the wall of the hallway before he forced himself to go towards the waiting room.

When he arrived there, he saw Freddie and John both there, both men looked petrified and scared, but he couldn’t feel sympathy for John right now, not now.

“He’s going to be okay, Brian,” Freddie gave him a hopeful smile. “They’ll fix him up, good as new.”

Brian shook his head, sitting down in a chair and leaning forward, placing his face in his hands helplessly. “Y-You don’t know that, Freddie. He could… he could d-die…”

Freddie glanced up at John with uneasy eyes before he looked back at Brian, shaking his head. “He could but he won’t. T-This is Roger, _our_ Roger. It’s not his first car accident. He’s impossible to kill. I should know, darling, I’ve tried,” Freddie attempted weakly.

Brian let out a single chuckle before he shook his head, wiping his eyes and looking up at the singer. “I-I get what you’re trying to do, Fred, but I just can’t. Please… don’t, all right?”

Freddie nodded once. “All right, then,” then after a beat. “I’m going to go get us some coffee. I’ll be right back.” He stood up and left the area, leaving Brian alone with John.

“L-Listen, Bri –"

Brian stood up abruptly and stormed towards John furiously. “No, _you_ listen, John! You took advantage of Roger’s state! I don’t know why you’re trying to separate us so much but this ends right now!”

“I agree, I think it should end, but I-I didn’t take advantage of him! He was kissing me back…”

Brian looked at the younger man in disbelief, shaking his head. “Oh, that’s wonderful, John. That’s really what I want to hear right now. I don’t know which one of you is worse, and how can you say you weren’t taking advantage of him?! He was high and drunk! I saw him slamming beers at the party like they were going out of style.”

John swallowed hard. “I was high too, to be fair.”

Brian shook his head, smiling humorlessly. “No. You don’t get a fucking say right now, John. You blew it. Even if Roger w-was kissing you back, this fucking ends. It ends right here and right now, and you won’t even touch him again! You got that?”

John felt several pairs of eyes on them and he simply nodded, wishing they hadn’t done this in public. Not when everyone knew who they were. He walked down several seats away from Brian and sat down, looking down at his hands.

Brian watched him do this and any other time, he’d go over there, apologize, and sit beside him, but Roger’s life was at stake right now, and it had been Brian’s fault that he had followed him all the way to the road. If he had just walked down the sideway instead of the pavement, maybe Roger wouldn’t be fighting for his life right now. Maybe they wouldn’t be here, and maybe he wouldn’t see red every time he looked over at John.

He didn’t know what time it was later when a doctor finally came out looking serious. All the men stood up, Brian shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling tired and drained, and terrified at what the doctor was about to tell him.

“Mr. Taylor’s in stable condition. He’s suffered a punctured lung, three broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and several contusions on his arms, legs, and his back. Luckily, he doesn’t have any internal bleeding, which is a miracle after this accident. Between the punctured lung and broken ribs, he’ll take six to eight weeks to fully recover from that.”

“W-What about his head?” Brian asked worriedly. “H-He… he was bleeding there after the accident.”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, he had some superficial injury to his head, but… right after we fixed up his lung in Emergency, he did have a seizure, but after a few minutes, it passed and he was all right again. It’s unclear what damage the hit to his head has done yet, since he’s still asleep so we won’t know until he wakes up and starts talking.”

“Can I see him?” Brian asked eagerly, searching the doctor’s face pleadingly. He ignored the looks by the other band mates when he hadn’t said ‘we’ instead.

The doctor sighed softly and looked at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, Mr. May, but he needs his rest. If you wish, I can have someone come out to you here and let you know when you may see him, or have someone from the hospital call you, if you wish to go home?”

“I’m staying here,” the guitarist said automatically, his hands determinedly on his hips, ignoring his exhausted he felt.

Freddie bit his lip and looked over at Brian.

“Very well. I’ll have someone come out then and get you. Being that this is Mr. Taylor’s second car accident and he’s still alive, I’d say that all of you are very lucky. Excuse me.”

Brian watched him walk away and then rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“You need to go home and get some sleep, darling…”

“I’m fine,” Brian said automatically, shaking his head. “You two go. I’m going to stay right here until I can see him.”

“Deaky,” Freddie said gently, placing his hand on the bassist’s shoulders. “Why don’t you go out to the van? I’d like to talk to Brian alone for a moment. I’ll be right there.”

John glanced regretfully in the older man’s direction before he nodded to the singer and walked out of the hospital. Once he was gone, Freddie looked back at him.

“I know you’re rather upset at John right now, but not taking care of yourself isn’t going to make Roger get better any faster, darling.”

Brian put a hand up to silence him. “I’m all right, Fred. Really. Just go home. I’m not going home without Roger.”

Freddie could tell he wasn’t going to get anywhere with him saying everything he wanted to say so he just nodded reluctantly. “Don’t be afraid to call us if you need us. We’re family, and we’re both still here for you and Rog, whether you like it or not.”

Brian simply nodded and then looked on as Freddie grabbed his jacket and made his way out as well. He exhaled deeply before he laid down on several chairs in the waiting area and closed his eyes before he hugged himself.

_This was his fault, all his fault._

_He might as well been the one in the car._

_And he was lucky as hell that Roger hadn’t died, because that would’ve been the end of him as well._

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

Roger gasped as he woke up abruptly, his eyes darting around quickly as the heart monitor started beeping rapidly. Then he felt a soft hand on top of his own and a voice.

“Hey, shhh… you’re okay, Roger. You’re okay. You’re safe,” Brian cooed softly, gently thumbing his skin. “You’re in the hospital again, but the doctor said you’re going to be okay.”

The drummer tried to breathe but felt it painful and realized now that his bed was in an elevated position instead of lying down. He cringed in pain a little but realized that by how tired he was feeling, he must already had been given morphine, or some other painkiller. He looked down and saw cords coming out of his body, hooked up to other machines around him.

He swallowed hard and nearly started sobbing when he saw his wrist in a cast. “N-No… no. No, no no….” he whimpered. “H-How am I going to play drums now…?”

Brian shook his head. “Don’t worry, Rog. Don’t worry about that right now, you hear me? You’ll heal. It’s going to take some time, but you’ll get better. Just… don’t think about anything else, all right?”

Roger nodded slowly and felt his eyes fill up with tears when he looked back at the guitarist. “I-I’m so sorry, Bri. I really am –"

Brian instantly starting shaking his head. “Let’s not do this right now, yeah? You need your rest. You need to let yourself relax and heal.”

“Please,” Roger begged, searching his face. “P-Please, let me just… defend myself, before you break up with me,”

He looked at Brian whose eyes were flooded with hurt and pain and sadness, and nodded in acknowledgement. He didn’t know if the other man even was thinking about breaking up with him, but he wouldn’t put it past him, or anyone in his position.

“I saw you,” Roger spoke carefully, hating that he was crying silently. “I saw you with her… that woman upstairs.”

Brian tensed and straightened, his eyes widening. “You saw me and… Chrissy?” He asked in partial confusion.

Roger nodded. “I saw you two kissing and… I don’t know what got into me. I felt hurt, a-and alone, I guess. That’s why I went to John’s room and it’s why I-I let him… why I kissed him back. I felt angry at y-you and I know it’s not fair and it’s a shit excuse, but… t-that’s why I kissed him, and I was high and drunk.”

Brian took a shaky breath and rubbed his temples before he looked back at Roger. “Then you saw me push her away and tell her that I already had someone that I loved.”

“What?” Roger’s brows knitted in confusion, shaking his head. “No, I saw her kiss you, and then you kissed her back, and then I left.”

“Shit,” Brian whispered to himself. He chewed on his lip anxiously before he leaned forward and laced his fingers with Roger’s delicately. “If you had eavesdropped a little bit longer, you would’ve seen me stop her, and then I told her… that I loved someone else and I couldn’t do that with her. She got upset, and she stormed back downstairs before leaving. Roger,” he said agonizingly. “I didn’t want that, her to kiss me.”

“You kissed her back, Bri! I saw it!”

The guitarist sighed. “I did, Rog. I kissed her back for maybe a few seconds but then I stopped it and told her all of that. I don’t want her. I-I want… _wanted_ you.”

Roger retracted his hand from Brian’s now, feeling the tears flooding from his face harder now. He had fucked it up, he had fucked everything up with him. He had a knee-jerk reaction to a scene he hadn’t even stuck around to watch the entire thing of, and then he went and made out with John, like an asshole.

He hit his bed hard with his good hand before he kicked it, and then cringed, feeling the pain in his ribs. “OW! Fucking _hell_ …”

Brian placed a hand out to him as if to silently tell him to calm down. “I’m going to go find someone to help you with the pain.”

Roger let out a strangled sob, suddenly feeling so furious at himself. Sure, Brian had kissed her but if he had stuck around longer, he would’ve seen him push her away, but he hadn’t. If he had seen him push her away and stay all that, maybe he wouldn’t have kissed John, _again._

By this time he was so angry that he was seeing red at his own damn self and he was hitting the bed again repeatedly until he saw a long needle go into his IVs and then felt his body involuntarily relax and felt sleepy again.

He saw a nurse leave the room, leaving the two men alone with each other again and he looked over at Brian with sad eyes. The other man didn’t give anything away as he pulled his shirt down and wiped away Roger’s tears with it gently.

“You should rest, Rog. I’ll be here when you wake up again, and maybe we can talk, okay?”

Roger didn’t even have the energy to nod as his eyelids became so heavy that he felt them close, and then felt himself fall asleep.

 

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

**  
** When Roger woke a second time, it wasn’t Brian that he saw, but John. The tension between the men hung thick in the room.

“Where’d Brian go?”

John straightened when he saw the drummer wake up. “He just went downstairs to get coffee, I think.”

Roger searched his eyes and he bit his lip. “He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?” He asked knowingly, no actual question in his voice. He knew it wouldn’t be good if Brian walked in and saw him talking to Roger right now.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m about to leave. I just… wanted to see you, and make sure you were okay.”

Roger nodded in understanding and the two were quiet for a few more minutes before he sighed. “You know that nothing can come from the two of us, right? That kiss… I mean… both of those make out sessions…” He trailed off, unsure what to say next as he felt awkwardness take over.

John gave a small smile. “I know, Rog. It was just… curiosity,” he put it out there. “That’s all it was. I know. I’m well aware of how much you and Brian love each other and… I didn’t mean to mess anything up. Last night was just… things got a bit out of control. We let our guard down and then that happened, but it’s not going to happen again.”

Roger felt relief wash over him now, hearing the bassist’s words. He nodded, sighing. “Right. It’s not.”

“All right, then.”

The drummer chewed on his lip nervously, searching his eyes. “Are we okay, Deaky?”

“Always,” John smiled warmly. Roger smiled back and then saw him stand up. “I’m glad to see you’re going to be okay. Really. I should probably leave though before Brian sees me. I’ll be back tomorrow with Freddie, okay?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, John.”

“See you tomorrow, Roger.”

He watched John carefully slip out of the room and disappear and several minutes later, he saw Brian walk in carrying a cup of coffee for himself, but not for Roger. He feigned disappointment.

“I don’t get anything? I thought you loved me, Bri.”

The guitarist shrugged, smirking weakly. “I do love you, Rog, but you’re not allowed any caffeine until you’re discharged, I’m afraid.”

“At least I can still smoke.”

Brian grimaced now before shaking his head. “You’re not going to like this; the doctor says you also have to cut down smoking and take a break from it for a few weeks once you’re out of here.”

_Okay. This upset Roger._

“Fuck!” He kicked the bottom part of the bed again.

Brian gave him a stern look before he placed his hand on Roger’s leg gently. “You need to knock your temper tantrums off as well or else I’ll have to bring the nurse back in here to knock you out again, Roger! Just breathe, all right?”

The drummer took a deep breath but winced slightly in pain again. “Damn it… I might as well just pack a bag and grab my own pillow since I’m basically living here from now on. Oh hey,” he suddenly remembered. “Did you see the guy who hit me? Did he get arrested or anything?”

He saw guilt flood his boyfriend’s face now and knew something hadn’t gone as it should’ve.

“No,” Brian suddenly said, shaking his head. “No, the bastard just… hit you and kept on driving. He didn’t even stop to make sure you were all right. Probably drunk too.”

There was something in the tone of Brian’s voice that made Roger not believe him, but he didn’t want to argue with him. He felt like he didn’t have a leg to stand on right now anyway. As far as Roger was concerned, he had no right to question Brian’s actions, or lack thereof.

 “Oh,” was all the drummer said, looking down at his hands.

“Don’t worry about him,” the other man insisted. “He’ll get his. What goes around, comes around. How are you feeling? Do you need some more morphine?”

“No,” Roger shook his head. “I don’t really like how it makes me feel, Bri. I feel so drowsy and dizzy. I’d rather have the pain, I think.” He started looking for a button on his bed controls and then felt Brian reach out and touch his good wrist to stop him.

“What are you doing now, Rog? What do you need? Let me help.”

“I need this fucking bed fucking laid back so I’m not in a permanent fucking sitting position anymore,” Roger complained.

“Sorry, but the doctor said it’s important to keep you elevated post-surgery to make sure it went all right and you can breathe okay. Just deal with it, love.”

Roger swore but took another deep breath and closed his eyes. “I want a fucking cigarette, Bri,” he whined now.

The guitarist leaned in and laced his hand with Roger’s again. “I know you do. I know. I’m sorry… but you’re going to be in for a lot of agony while you’re in here,” when the blonde didn’t say anything, he continued. “Do you want to talk about last night some more?”

Roger thought for a moment before he looked out the window as it poured outside. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“This isn’t your fault, you know. This is… my fault, again.”

This made Roger look back at Brian with questioning eyes. “What?”

“You being here, in the hospital, again. It’s my fault. If… I hadn’t been fighting with you across the road, you wouldn’t have followed me to apologize. If I had been walking on a sidewalk instead, maybe you wouldn’t have been hit, would you?”

Roger took this in before he shook his head. “Brian… y-you can’t blame yourself for this. I didn’t _have_ to follow you, but I chose to. I don’t blame you for what happened to me. Like you said, it was probably some drunk tosser that wasn’t looking where he was going.”

Just like Roger had been the night of his own accident. Drunk, and behind the wheel.

Brian sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking like something else was bothering him but he didn’t say anything.

“This was my karma, Brian,” Roger realized now, looking at him. “Because I hit that other car when I was drunk before, and I almost killed those people. Now it was my turn to get hit by a drunk driver. It seems only fitting, right?”

Brian shook his head. “Like I said, Rog. This wasn’t your fault, even by karmic standards. Just… rest up.”

Roger didn’t want to tell him he was getting sick of hearing that he should rest, because he felt grateful beyond belief that the older man was actually there with him in the hospital after what he had done with John. Brian didn’t have to be there; he could’ve gone home too and left Roger in there to rot until it was time to be discharged.

He should be lucky to have him here, and _shit_ , he did feel so fucking lucky, so he didn’t argue with Brian, and simply nodded instead before he rested his head on the hospital pillow and looked out the window as it rained. To his own surprise, he closed his eyes and fell asleep again.


	15. secret's out

**.    .    .**

  
Brian stayed with Roger in the hospital for almost two weeks, with Freddie and John both visiting when Brian wasn’t around. The hospital made the drummer stay an extra day and night, though when he had another seizure in Brian’s presence but sent him back home with anti-seizure medication as well as some painkillers for the pain from his ribs.

As soon as Roger set foot in the flat, he grabbed his cigarettes quickly and placed one between his lips before lighting it and taking a frantic puff from it. No sooner than he had done it, though, he saw fingers grab the cigarette out of his mouth and put it out in a nearby ashtray.

“Are you thick, Rog? What part of ‘no more smoking’ didn’t you understand?” Brian scolded, looking at Roger.

The blonde scoffed and looked at him. “You’re joking. I didn’t think you were actually serious about all that!”

“You didn’t?” Brian looked at him in disbelief. “Your lungs still need time to heal up. Smoking isn’t going to do you any favors, love.”

Freddie sat in a chair and placed a cigarette between his lips as he smirked, staring straight at Roger as he lit it and then took a drag. “Mmm… oh, it’s so lovely, Rog. It’s a shame you’re missing out.”

Roger looked at him with cold eyes, shaking his head. “Watch it, or I’ll stuff that cigarette down your throat, Freddie.” He started towards the singer dangerously until Brian grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Hey, stop it, both of you. Jesus, you two are like children!” Brian sighed and walked into the kitchen before he filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove.

John came out from his room and locked eyes with Roger temporarily before he glanced towards the kitchen and then scuttled back into his room, obviously not eager to face Brian again.

The drummer sighed and then watched as Freddie smoked when he suddenly saw the singer offer it to him as a peace offering. The blonde made sure Brian’s back was turned as he went to grab the cups and quickly took a small drag of the cigarette before handing it back to Freddie and turned around to exhale the smoke.

He saw Freddie smirk out of the corner of his eye and felt his anger towards the man disappear.

When the kettle screamed, Brian turned off the stove and filled four mugs with hot water over the teabags and placed all of it on a tray before taking it into the living room and setting it on the coffee table. “Help yourselves, gentlemen,” Brian spoke calmly before taking one for himself and making himself comfortable on the couch.

“I’ll go take one into Deaky,” Freddie offered as he started to get up.

“No, it’s fine, Fred,” Roger stopped him gently with his good, unbraced arm, reaching down to grab a cup for the singer before handing it to him and then grabbing another cup for John. “I’ll take it into him.”

He glanced at Brian to see the guitarist’s reaction but Brian looked straight ahead at the television with a neutral expression on his face.

“Oh, well if you’re sure, dear. Can you please let him know it’s our turn to do the grocery shopping and I’d like to leave before two?”

Roger gave him a small smile and nodded before he walked towards John’s room and gently knocked on the door. A few minutes later, he was greeted by an almost timid looking bassist.

“Oh, cheers,” John gave him a hesitant smile, grabbing the cup of tea from Roger. When he didn’t see Roger move away from the door once he took it, he opened the door wider and moved aside so the other man could come in.

“Freddie told me to tell you that he wants to go to the store with you pretty soon.”

He closed it behind him and turned to him. “Oh, all right,” then after a beat, “Rog, how much does Brian know, about us?”

Roger shrugged. “Just about the kiss at the party,” he answered, sitting on the younger man’s bed and looked down at his lap. “He doesn’t know about the first kiss yet.”

“Are you going to tell him, Rog?”

He looked up at him and saw nervousness on his face. “I don’t know, Deaky. I sort of want to, to get it out in the open, to stop keeping secrets from him, but… every time I go to tell him, I just freeze up and I don’t do it. Anyway, I’m afraid if I do tell him, then he’ll just get angry all over again and that’ll be the nail in my coffin, you know?”

John nodded, chewing on his lip anxiously. He took a shaky breath. “What if… I tell you a secret of his, and then maybe your secret won’t seem so bad anymore?”

Roger tensed and searched John’s face. “What secret?”

The bassist looked nervous as he took a sip of his tea before he set it on the bedside table before sitting next to Roger. He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs.

“The night when the car hit you, the guy got out of his car and he was… freaking out. Brian let him go, and he drove off before the police could get there.”

Roger felt a lump in his throat. “W-What? Why would he do that? The fucker slammed into me!”

John nodded in agreement but he searched the drummer’s face. “I’m not sure, but… Freddie and I were there when Brian let him go. He told him to get out of there so… he’s not going to be charged with anything because he probably won’t be caught, and you _did_ walk out in front of him.”

Roger felt his head spinning and he swallowed hard. It was true; he had walked out in front of him, but usually the decent thing someone innocent would do would be to stick around until the police came to give a statement. He didn’t understand why the man would leave if he was innocent.

“But it was my fault; I walked out in front of him. W-Why would he just… leave? Why would Brian let him even do that?” He suddenly felt dizziness take over him and for a few terrifying moments, he thought that he might have another seizure.

John must have seen his wariness because he reached out and touched his shoulder. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I was just trying to make things a bit easier for you, Rog. I promise.”

“No, I know. It’s just… a lot,” he sighed. He shrugged John off of him before he stood up. “I wouldn’t keep Freddie waiting around for too long. You know how he gets.” He walked out of the bedroom and back over to the couch.

He grabbed a cup of tea with his good hand and sat down, glancing over at Brian and wondering how he should go about this. Maybe he should start the conversation once the other two have left, then the guitarist couldn’t yell at John for telling him what had happened at the accident scene.

He sipped his tea anxiously and several minutes later, he saw John throwing his coat on and saw the two men leave together, leaving Brian and Roger alone at last.

“I have something to tell you, Bri,” he said in a near whisper.

The older man turned his body and looked at Roger curiously. “What would that be, Rog?”

_This was a mistake; this was a huge mistake that would threaten the band’s bonds. He shouldn’t tell Brian this. He just shouldn’t._

_But he had to, lest his guilt eat him up._

“The night of the party, when you saw John and me kissing… i-it wasn’t the first time.”

Brian ran his hands through his hair and then stood up before he looked down at his boyfriend, his eyes wide. “How many times have you two made out, exactly?”

Roger shook his head. “Just two.”

“When was the first time?” Brian asked, his jaw set tightly in condensed anger.

_This was a huge fucking mistake._

“The first time, was in John’s room after Freddie got jumped and I had to check him out. John kissed me, but… I sort of stopped him,” Roger tried to defend himself.

Brian’s face was filled with hurt now, confusion in his eyes. He was so quiet for so long that Roger was ready to scream at him to yell or fight him, do _something_ just to fill the empty void with sound. Then the drummer saw him looked hesitant, and it was driving him crazy.

“Yell at me, Bri. Punch me. Scream… anything.”

“They were right,” Brian suddenly said. “Freddie and John. They were right when they said it was a mistake for us to be together so soon after your accident. You were going through a-a lot and –"

“No, don’t do that. Don’t… give me excuses for what I did. You’re supposed to be fucking raging right now, Bri. I kissed someone else! I kissed another guy in the band… you should hate me!”

Brian looked conflicted, looking away towards the window before he looked back down at Roger. Roger who had a wrist brace on because of Brian’s choice to storm out into the road to yell at his boyfriend. This was _his_ fault, everything was. Roger had gotten hurt because of _him._

“Do you love him, Roger?”

The question threw him off. “Love him like how?”

“Like you love me.”

Roger shook his head. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry it happened, but I was feeling really bad about it, and what happened at the party, and I needed you to know. It won’t happen again.”

Brian nodded now and took a deep breath before he let it out. He looked like he was deep in thought but he didn’t say anything.

The guitarist wasn’t even angry and Roger was rethinking discussing the whole accident that John had told him about, but he still wanted answers about it, and he _hated_ that that guy was still driving around and not behind bars, or at very least, being questioned by police.

“Why did you let that guy go, the one that hit me?” He knew it was abrupt but he didn’t want to give Brian a chance to think about lying to him.

The other man looked over in surprise now and searched Roger’s face. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” the drummer sighed. “When I was unconscious, the bloke who hit me was freaking out, and you told him to just leave. Why?”

Brian shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking Deaky…”

“No, leave John out of this! I’m glad at least one person’s being honest with me throughout this entire thing! I’m trying to piece my life back together again and you’re keeping things from me!”

Brian laughed humorlessly, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Keeping things from you… that’s rich, after you kept the first kiss from me, Rog.”

“Answer me, Bri. Tell me why you let that tosser go before the police came.”

The older man shook his head, swallowing hard. “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I wat to know! Did you know him?! Were you two friends or something, ex-lovers?! Why did you just let him leave? The police should’ve taken a statement from him, at least!”

Brian looked like he was about to explode now, his hands turning into angry fists at his sides. “You walked out in front of him!”

“Because of you!” Roger screamed back, on the verge of frustrated tears.

“I’m sorry, Roger!” Brian yelled back, not sounding very sorry at all. “I didn’t want to deal with court dates and trials or having to talk to him for months on end until your accident finally got cleared away! I was trying to do us all a favor! Why does it even matter? I told you the accident was my fault! You followed _me_! He didn’t go out of his way to hit you or anything!”

“Why did he leave if he was so innocent, Brian?! Why didn’t he wait around for the police to show up? Even freaked out people have the empathy and decency to stick around and give a fucking statement! He didn’t though! He drove off after you told him to!”

Brian looked taken back now as he realized what Roger was trying to say. “You don’t know him, Roger.”

“You don’t either! Why are you defending him?!”

“Not everyone is a bad bloke! He was probably scared shitless that you were going to die! You don’t even know if he’s done anything illegal to agree to leave the scene.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Roger scoffed, standing up with difficulty. “You’re supposed to be the voice of reason here. Innocent people don’t run! He could have priors! They don’t drive off after they hit someone, and you just… let him go!”

Brian ran his hands through his hair in distress now, shaking his head as he realized that Roger was right about this. “I’m sorry, all right?! Is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry I let him leave! I was more concerned with you, though! You were lying on the road in a puddle of blood, unconscious! Christ, Rog, I was fucking terrified I was going to lose you again!”

Roger saw the tears in his eyes now and he felt himself weaken and felt the anger leaking out of him. He bit his lip. He was still angry about the man leaving but he couldn’t direct his anger any longer at the man he loved in front of him.

“You’re not going to lose me, Bri,” Roger spoke softly. “You won’t.”

“It was my fault,” Brian wiped away a stray tear that had run down his cheek. “Y-You got hit because m-me… a-and I’m _so sorry_ , Roger.”

“Stop it,” the drummer gently chided, moving closer to him. “I don’t blame you for this. I only have myself to blame. I made the choice to kiss John at the party, and if I hadn’t been doing that when you walked in… then none of it would’ve happened.”

“Maybe,” Brian shrugged, sniffling. “Maybe it still would’ve. All your accidents have happened because of me. That night when you flipped your car, _I_ should’ve drove you home. I never should’ve left.”

Roger shifted his weight anxiously, having almost forgotten about his first accident. “Y-You were upset, and I probably still wouldn’t have wanted to go home anyway. I think either way, the same thing would’ve happened.”

“Are you staying you’re just that thick?” Brian weakly chuckled now.

Roger couldn’t help but laugh almost sadly as well, nodding. “I-I guess so…”

The guitarist moved closer to him and then leaned in, gently resting his forehead against Roger’s. “It’ll be all right, Rog. We’ll get through this, all of us will. This is just a rough patch. Once your wrist and your ribs heal, then you’ll be okay to drum again, and then we can start touring again, and put this place behind us for a while.”

Roger liked the sound of that. Everything bad that has happened recently happened around this city. Maybe they just needed to get away. Now he couldn’t wait until he healed up. He was tired of this place, its people, and all his accidents. Maybe it would be good for all of them to get away for a while.

The drummer nodded in agreement. “Will you be nicer to Deaky?”

Brian’s brows knitted together but he nodded. “Yeah, I will. It doesn’t do any of us any good to stay pissed at each other.”

“Thanks, Bri,” Roger said meaningfully.

Brian leaned in and kissed Roger’s lips softly, giving the drummer time to pull away if he wished. Instead, he felt Roger move closer, kissing him back, and both men felt warmth fill them up again. It was as if nothing had happened.

“Watch something with me?”

Roger nodded and sat back down on the couch with Brian, sipping their new lukewarm tea as they watched another band perform on television. They were about halfway through the concert when they heard Freddie and John finally walk inside, carrying multiple grocery bags each.

Brian got up quickly and took two of the many bags they were holding and walked into the kitchen. “You guys were gone for over an hour. The store’s just around the corner. Where else did you go?”

John glanced over at Freddie and sighed before he looked over at Roger who was peeking up from behind the couch curiously.

“We thought we saw that guy there, from Roger’s accident. Freddie thought it’d be a good idea to follow him around.”

“That’s not exactly the whole story, is it, darling?”

Brian raised an eyebrow and looked from Freddie to John as he unloaded the groceries, putting them away. “What’s he talking about, John?”

The bassist looked apprehensive now and walked closer to towards the kitchen until he was leaning against the counters.

“What is it, John?” Brian asked seriously now, searching the younger man’s face.

John looked intensely uncomfortably right now, and it made Brian nervous. He started looking him up and down worriedly. “Did he hurt you?”

Freddie walked over to them now, placing a gentle hand on John’s back comfortingly. “He didn’t hurt John, but there was a young woman with him, and… well, he wasn’t exactly acting very nice towards her. He kept pulling her rather roughly around the store and the poor dear looked terrified.”

Brian could see John tensing up a bit more now and he sighed, turning his attention to the singer.

“Tell me you didn’t confront him.”

Freddie looked unsure now and shrugged. “I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing, could I, darling? You would’ve done the same thing in my position, Brian. I know you would’ve!”

“So what exactly happened?” Brian looked at him carefully.

“I told him to stop hurting her or else I’d get the police involved and then he pushed me.”

Brian clenched his jaw, shaking his head.

“Unbelievable. He pushed you? Did he say anything?”

“He told John and I to stay out of his business, and to leave him alone or else.”

Roger listened to the conversation but he stayed on the couch, looking down at his wrist. He wished it was fully healed so he could knock this fucker out. He knew this guy had to be bad news. He just fucking knew it.

“Or else what?” Brian demanded, his anger not directed towards Freddie or John, but at the other man.

It was Freddie’s turn to finally look uneasy. He glanced over at the bassist for help.

“He said, or else he would hit our friend again,” John answered, looking over at Roger worriedly.

Brian took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. He shook his head. “Fuck him. He’s not getting anywhere near Roger again. I won’t let him. I can’t believe he’s still around here. I thought maybe he was from elsewhere, but of fucking course, he has to live around here too.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Freddie spoke, sincerity in his voice.

“This isn’t either of your faults,” Brian clarified. “You’re right; Fred. I would’ve done the same thing to help that woman out. I just can’t believe this is happening. I don’t know why, but a part of me though he was a good person that night that just made a mistake and couldn’t break in time. Until now,” he looked over at Roger.

“So what do we do now?” The drummer asked, turning to face them.

“What do you mean?” The guitarist asked him. “You’re not doing anything, Rog. You’re staying here, resting up and healing. You’re not doing anything else besides those things.”

Roger scoffed and stood up.

“This guy’s obviously trouble! He’s roughing up his girlfriend in public, he’s hit me, and you don’t want to do anything about it?”

“What do you want, Roger? Revenge?” Brian challenged now. “You wouldn’t be able to even take this guy in a fight in the state you’re in right now. We can’t prove anything to anyone.”

John bit his lip and looked from Roger to Brian. “So we just let this go? We let him keep hurting that woman?”

Brian threw his arms up in the air, looking at all of them helplessly. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. We can’t do anything until Roger’s fully healed anyway. We need to catch him in the act, force him to stay there until police arrive, so they can arrest him.  We can’t do anything else right now, though. Let’s just focus on one thing at a time, yeah? Right now, that thing is going to be Roger.”

The other two men nodded now in understanding and began helping Brian put away things. Roger stood there in frustration, damning his broken wrist and inability to do anything, to be of actual use. It frustrated him to feel so helpless. If he had the use of both his wrists, he wouldn’t hesitate to get revenge, especially if it meant he could protect someone else from that guy’s wrath.

The men spent the rest of the day watching television and playing Scrabble, trying to do anything to distract themselves from things they couldn’t control.

They had finished dinner when Freddie handed them all tumblers of alcohol, giving Roger the one with the least amount in it, before he sat down again.

Roger quickly finished it in one swallow without complaint. The others sipped theirs, a comfortable silence between all of them filling the room for the first time. Roger felt like maybe this was how it felt with all of them before his first accident, how it felt natural and calming to be around them.

He felt like this was where he belonged. Not with his parents who had basically disowned him for his sexuality.

Not with a long string of one-night stands with women or men.

But with Brian.

And Freddie, and John.

They were his family, and even though there were other things going on, he felt like he could deal with everything as long as he had all these men in his life. They were strong when he couldn’t be. He saw John smile to him softly, and Roger smiled back, seeing Brian smiling at him lovingly.

“Come on, children,” Freddie teased. “It’s getting late. I believe it’s time for sleep.”

All the men agreed and Freddie and John went to go sleep in their shared room while Brian and Roger went to Brian’s room. The two men changed into their pajamas (with Brian helping Roger do so), and then they crawled into bed.

Brian put pillows to help keep Roger propped up right before he grabbed his own and lay right beside him close. He could hear Roger breathing unevenly, telling him that something was bothering him and he was still awake. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Roger shook his head, making sure that he wasn’t lying on his bad wrist or anything.

“Are you thinking about that woman?” Brian asked knowingly, whispering in the dark.

Roger bit his lip. “We need to do something.”

“Don’t worry, Rog. We will soon…”

“What if it isn’t soon enough? What if it’s too late then?”

The thought had crossed Brian’s mind too, but they had to focus on themselves, first and foremost. They were all running on empty emotionally. They needed time for things to calm down before they could heal and help others.

Brian kissed the top of Roger’s head and lingered there. “It’ll be all right. Just sleep now, love.”

It took Roger several minutes, but then he felt himself drift off.


	16. run-in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't particularly like this chapter and found it difficult to write but thank you all who are commenting and reading!

**.    .    .**

  
Roger tossed and turned all night, going back and forth between feeling agony in his wrist and feeling fear for that woman who was in the store with the guy who had hit him. He felt hot, then cold, and uncomfortable and when he couldn’t stand it any longer around 4 a.m., he finally just got up and walked out to the living room.

It was a whole ordeal but he managed to somehow lit a cigarette after putting the television on low volume for some background noise.

He was sitting there smoking for about ten minutes before he heard quiet footsteps behind him but he could tell it wasn’t Brian behind him.

“What are you doing up?”

The man sat beside him on the couch and also lit a cigarette and took a drag before he exhaled. “Same as you, darling. I can’t sleep either.”

Roger looked over at the singer with sad eyes.

“I need to do something; I can’t just sit here wasting time when I could be helping someone out there and protect him from this fucking asshole.”

Freddie watched him carefully, taking another drag. “You _are_ doing something, dear. You’re healing. That’s quite a lot, I would say. You need to let yourself heal.”

“I don’t have time to do that, not when _he’s_ out there hurting women. I’d rather he come around and try to hit me again than have him do that. I need to go out there and find the bastard.” Roger took another drag before he forced himself to reluctantly put out the cigarette in the ashtray.

Freddie turned his whole body towards him before he put his legs out across the drummer to get more comfortable. “No, Rog. I know how frustrated you are, dear. Believe me, I am as well, but you can’t go out there and fight this prick in the state you’re in right now.”

Roger knew that his friend was right and the thought of being so helpless made him want to light up again but he restrained himself. He sighed heavily and shook his head in disgust.

“This is ridiculous, Freddie. How long is it going to take?”

  
**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

It turned out that it took about seven long weeks until Roger’s ribs and lungs had fully healed. His wrist was out of the brace, but it was still somewhat tender, but that didn’t matter to the drummer; he was glad to finally be of use again.

“Where the hell are you going, Rog?”

The blonde spun around after putting his jacket on and saw Brian with John standing behind him; Freddie had gone to talk to John Reid about something that day. Roger had hoped that he could’ve snuck out without being seen, but those plans were quickly forgotten now.

“Out.”

“Out where?” Brian eyed him suspiciously.

“Store. We need more milk.”

Brian narrowed his eyes before he shook his head. “Freddie can go to the store and get it.”

“No,” Roger shook his head back, his voice firm and hard. “I need to get out of here, Brian. You’ve forced me to stay in this flat for several weeks, and I’m about to go fucking mad from cabin fever. I need to get out, and I’m going right now.”

The guitarist sighed, chewing on his lip in thought as he looked at his boyfriend. “Fine, but John’s going with you.”

“For Christ’s sake, Bri, I don’t need fucking supervision,” Roger argued.

“No, I know you, and you do need it. If I didn’t have people to call right now, I’d go with you myself. John’s going with you, and that’s the end of that.”

The drummer threw his arms up in the air in agitation but couldn’t argue with that. He considered himself lucky that Brian even agreed to let him go out right now, especially with John who’d have encounters with him before.

John was looking on, listening to them and then nodded once Brian gave him a cautious smile before he grabbed the monster of a phone and took it into his room, pulling the cord with him before he closed it to have privacy.

“Ready, Deaky?” Roger looked at him.

“Yeah, sure. What is it that we need again?”

The drummer led him to the van and waited until his friend got into the driver’s seat. “We need milk, but I’m actually going to watch for the prick that hit me and maybe get some revenge. Come on, let’s go.”

“Roger, we’re not…” John looked at him in disbelief. “Do you really want to get hurt again by him? Isn’t once enough?”

The drummer shook his head before he sighed and glanced over at him. “This guy is bad news. We can’t prove he did anything to anyone, including me so the police aren’t going to touch him. Just let me have this, yeah? Let me do this, and I’ll be able to sleep again at night.”

“Revenge isn’t the answer, Rog.” He searched his eyes but knew this was going to be a pointless battle. He sighed and started up the van before he started towards the store.

Roger could feel adrenaline pumping through him, and he knew the odds were low of actually bumping into this guy again, but if he was still hanging around the city, then maybe the odds would be better than anyone thought.

It was a quiet ride there and they had bought their milk inside the store and paid for it without seeing him. It was when they bought the bag into the van when Brian noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

He turned around and saw a man roughly manhandling a young woman who appeared to be covered in bruises. Something inside of him snapped, and he remembered what Freddie and John had told Brian, how a young woman had been with him, and he was treating her roughly.

This had to be the guy.

He moved away from the van before John could stop him and stormed towards him. “Hey! Keep your hands off of her!”

The outburst made him look up in surprise and Roger watched as wave of recognition washed freely across his face before he tried to guide the woman towards his car.

Roger ran in front of him and shoved the man with force, making him let go of the woman who immediately took several steps away from them, unsure what was happening. When the drummer was able to look at him, he suddenly felt a pull come from within him.

_No, not again. Not right now._

But it was too late, and the flashes him hard and fast before he could try and stop them.

_He was in a club and Brian wasn’t there. He was by himself, for some reason._

_He looked around and saw a man in his late 20s, handsome, strong. He felt his stomach flip and his breath leave him as the man moved over to him. He put his hand on Roger’s shoulder almost suggestively before he gave him a small smirk._

_“Can I buy you a drink, mate?”_

_Roger couldn’t even think straight but he nodded._

_Flashes of the two of them sitting together, talking, drinking, and affectionately touching each other._

_“What’s your name again?”_

_“Peter, Peter Williams, and I already know who you are, Roger Taylor…”_

Then he was back in the present, but he heard yelling and someone screaming. Roger looked around, trying to figure out where he was, when he was. He was on the ground at the moment, and he could taste blood in his mouth, and pain in his wrist.

“Roger!”

_Deaky._

He looked over at him and saw John on the ground as well, bleeding from a cut on his head, but his lip looked broken and was bleeding.

_What the fuck had happened?_

“Don’t ever fucking approach me like that again, Taylor! I don’t care how famous you are!” There was almost the sound of fear in his voice, almost.

_The girl._

Roger forced himself up, even though he felt pain in his body. He felt his adrenaline kick in again a second time and he suddenly punched the guy before throwing him on the ground hard and kicked him, but inside he was feeling so much confusion and he could feel it filling him up like sand in an hourglass.

_Why was his guy in his flashback?_

_Why were they talking and drinking like friends?_

And now here he was hurting him.

He heard the woman whimpering and when he was sure the man wasn’t going to get up, he moved towards the girl and looked at her with soft eyes.

“Is there anywhere you can stay, away from him?” The woman knitted her brows but she nodded quickly. “Good, then stay there.”

She looked at Roger almost gratefully before she ran to the nearest phone booth across the street to call whoever. Roger hoped she actually wasn’t going to call the police or anything.

He went back over to the guy. “You fucking hit me,” he said coldly.

The guy looked up at Roger, blood trailing down his chin now with a slight smirk. “You deserved it, and I’ll do it again, if you’re not careful.”

Roger kicked him again hard, feeling the need to protect everyone in this moment. He put his foot on the man’s chest. “You better hope you don’t hit me again, you fucking tosser. You won’t live to see tomorrow. I know who you are now.”

It wasn’t exactly the whole truth, granted. He still needed some answers, but it was enough to make the man look fearful, and that was good enough for Roger. That’s what he was hoping for right now.

“Roger! Stop! Let’s just go!” he heard John yell in a strangled sort of way he’d never heard before.

The drummer spit out the blood in his mouth right near the man on the pavement, just missing him before he turned around and walked back to the van, throwing himself into the passenger seat as John quickly drove out of the store parking lot.

The blonde felt himself clenching and unclenching his fist, wincing upon realizing now his knuckles were bleeding slightly and one of his fingers was bending at an unnatural angle.

“Are you all right?” John asked worriedly, looking over at him as he drove.

Roger took a deep breath, feeling a thousand different emotions inside of him right now. “Y-Yeah, are you?” He also looked over at the other man to examine him, despite his own pain, and saw the blood from the cut on his head was running freely down his face and his chin still.

John looked nervously over at him, as if he were in shock or something, but nodded. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay. What the hell were you thinking, Roger?”

“You knew what I wanted to do!”

John sighed. “Yeah, but you just blanked. You stared at the guy forever and you didn’t do anything when he hit you and just… k-kept at it. What happened?”

Roger bit his lip and looked down at his shaking hands. “I-I don’t know… I had a-a flashback, I think.”

“Another one?” the bassist asked, glancing over at him. “What happened in it?”

Roger didn’t answer this time, instead opting to shake his head. He was quiet for a long time until they pulled into the driveway and John turned off the engine. “I-It didn’t make any sense.”

Before John could ask about it again, Roger quickly got out of the car, his mind racing, his heart pounding hard against his ribcage as his hands still trembled. He walked into the flat but didn’t see Brian at first, only the phone cord going into the bedroom.

It was when John walked in with the grocery bag and he had put the milk in the fridge when they both saw Brian walk out, looking exhausted and frustrated before he stopped dead in front of Roger and John. He swallowed hard.

“Freddie! Get the first aid kit,” he called out to him.

Roger saw the singer hurry out of his room and into the bathroom and saw Brian look at both of them with a mixture of both impatience and concern on his face.

“What the bloody hell happened to you two? I sent you to the store and you _both_ came back looking like you were in a fight?”

“That’s because we _were_ in a fight, Brian,” Roger said coolly, although he didn’t feel altogether there physically or mentally.

Brian started to fix up John first to stop his cut from bleeding but when he looked over at his boyfriend, he saw that Roger was looking off even though he sounded like his old self. He patched up John’s head and lip before he had him relax on the couch before he turned his attention to the drummer.

“Roger?” Brian tried gently, but didn’t receive an answer. His first thought was maybe Roger was having a different kind of seizure, but his eyes seemed responsive. He guided him over to the couch as well and helped him sit before he began to help patch his superficial wounds up the best he knew how.

“Roger, look at me, love,” he pleaded, relaxing when Roger looked back at him finally. “Do you know what happened?”

He figured that John would definitely know but he wanted to test Roger’s mental state.

The drummer looked away now, appearing anxious. He took a shaky breath. “I-I saw him, the guy who hit me. I was so angry, and I… I hurt him, but I had a flashback too, and I blacked out or something and when I opened my eyes again, I was on the ground. It all happened so fast.”

Brian felt his stomach sink.

“What did you do to him, Rog?” He asked cautiously, kneeling in front of Roger and seeing his broken finger, but didn’t really know how to fix that.

Roger shook his head now and went quiet again. His sudden silence made Brian uneasy. He stood up and guided him into the bathroom now, sitting him down on the closed toilet seat before he wet a cold washcloth and place it on the back of the drummer’s neck to help ground him a little.

“How did you break your finger, Roger?” He tried now.

The blonde looked down at his hand and swallowed hard. “I punched him, really hard, multiple times.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t run you over again, love…” Brian ran a hand through his hair before he knelt down in front of the other man again, placing his hands on his knees. “What was your flashback about?”

Roger put his face in his hands and closed his eyes. “I-It was h-him. He was in it, but… I-I knew him, I think. He was at the club, the night of my accident. We were talking and he bought me a couple drinks.”

Brian felt his heart stop in his chest.

“Are you sure it was him?”

Roger nodded. “A hundred percent. His name is Peter.”

Brian rubbed his chin in thought now, gently forcing Roger to look up at him. “Did anything else happen in your flashback?”

Roger shook his head.

The older man took a beat before he bit his lip. “I don’t know what happened that night with you and him. I must had already left. Whatever you did, though, pissed him off. Let’s not worry about him right now, though, yeah? Let’s worry about you.”

“I’m fine,” Roger said distantly, still thinking about Peter.

Brian shook his head. “You’re not fine. I can tell, Rog. You’re thinking about things right now. I know you don’t want to, but I think you should talk to me about it. It might help you figure things out a bit.”

The drummer looked down at his broken finger and without even having to go look anything up in a book, he quickly moved the joint back into place, repositioning his finger again, letting out a small yelp of pain as he did so, but he was other otherwise all right.

Brian was surprised when he did this so casually, but he didn’t want to say anything if the younger man was about to speak. He didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts. Even when he remained quiet for several minutes, he kept his patience and waited.

“In my flashback,” Roger suddenly spoke, his face contorted with confusion and pain. “We were getting pretty… intimate. We seemed close, Peter and I,” he looked back down at his hands almost in shame.

Brian wasn’t sure how to really feel about all of this yet but he looked at him. “He doesn’t have memory loss, Roger. He knows who you are. He still remembers hitting you, I’m positive.”

“He looked… almost… sorry earlier, in the parking lot. Like hitting me had really been an accident, and he regretted it.”

The guitarist shook his head now, having a feeling where this was going. “What he did was still illegal and wrong. What about the girl that Freddie and John mentioned? He was beating on her, wasn’t he? He’s not a good person, at all, Rog.”

Roger nodded, trying to swallow this down but his mind was grasping at anything it could now. “W-What happened at the club though –"

Brian gently caressed Roger’s knee. “What happened there, how he acted, is not who he is. You both were drunk and flirting, and probably doing other things as well. It doesn’t mean he was a good person. He might have felt regret hitting you with his car, but something tells me that it was for himself, because he didn’t want to go to jail for it.”

Roger took this in and breathed another shaky breath, his chest feeling tight. He felt Brian stand up and move him upright slightly so he wasn’t hunched over his lungs.

“How are you feeling physically right now, love? Do your ribs hurt or anything.”

Roger took a second to assess himself before he shook his head. “No, I’m all right. Thanks, for patching me back up.”

Brian ran his fingers through his soft blonde hair softly. Roger closed his eyes and leaned against Brian’s side, enjoying the feeling. The two men stayed like that for a long time, just feeling grateful that both of them were still alive and well, and able to still share each other’s presence.

It was in their silence when Brian turned around and noticed that Freddie and John were both peering in at them from the doorway.

“Everything okay?” John asked softly.

“Yeah, we’re fine in here. We’ll be out in a few.”

Freddie gently moved John out of the doorway and back down the hallway to give them privacy again. The older man looked down at Roger.

“Promise me you won’t seek him out again.”

Roger simply nodded.

“I need you to say it, Rog. Please.”

The seriousness of his voice made the drummer look up at him and he nodded again. “I won’t seek him out again, I promise, Bri.”

“Good. Now come on, mate. Let’s go back out and see what Freddie found out while he was out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by Alcohol.


	17. perfect day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is kind of a buffer to give Roger a break! I'm aware it's somewhat short but I hope to make up for that in the next one. 
> 
> Let me know what you guys want to see happen in this story! I love getting ideas :)

**.      .     .**

“So are you going to keep us in suspense, or what?”

The singer glanced over at Brian with an amused smile on his face. “All right, then. Let’s see… where to begin. Ah yes, so since Roger is all better now, I’ve been going around the city looking for more shows to play.”

There was a beat, and the guitarist looked at him expectantly. “And?”

“Oh, and it seems that everywhere is booked up suddenly with other bands, and our best bet is to do our tour, which is something we didn’t want to do until our next album came out, so I’m afraid we’re limited on options at the present moment,” Freddie shrugged from an overstuffed armchair. “What about you, darling? Weren’t you going to call John Reid?”

Brian sighed, running a hand through his curls as Roger leaned against him on the couch. “I did call him, and he basically told me the same thing. We haven’t played for over two months now because of various incidents involving Rog, and the venues think we’re unreliable and believe we won’t show up.”

“That’s utterly ridiculous,” Freddie scoffed, exchanging annoyed looks with John, who was quietly sipping tea on the floor by the coffee table by the singer’s legs. “Even with the money from our record sales, between paying rent for both our places, petrol, groceries and other expenses, we’re not poor by any means but we’re also not exactly swimming in money either.”

Brian shrugged as he shook his head, unsure what else they could do. “Well, let’s just take this time to relax. We’re still all right as far as money goes and not in any danger of having our utilities shut off or losing the other place, so we don’t have to worry just yet.”

Freddie nodded and smiled. “We’ll be just fine.”

Brian returned the smile and glanced over at Roger who looked like he might fall asleep any moment. “Not enough coffee today, Rog?”

 The drummer gave him a weak smile and playfully scoffed. “Try, no coffee at all today. It’s been a busy morning.”

“I wonder whose fault that would be,” Brian teased, causing Roger to playfully elbow the man in the ribs. “Would you like some tea, Roger?”

“Yeah, I would,” the drummer replied in a tone as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Brian chuckled and started towards the kitchen before he poured a cup of tea for Roger using the still hot water in the kettle from John’s tea he had poured only five minutes earlier. “Freddie, want some tea as well?”

“Yes, please. That’d be lovely.”

Brian came back with two cups of coffee and gave them to the respective band mates before making himself comfortable beside Roger again, putting his arm around the younger man’s shoulders. “So what other bands are playing? Maybe we can go see a show together since we’re not the ones playing for once.”

Freddie shook his head. “Sorry, darling. I haven’t a clue. They didn’t go into detail about it. Didn’t John say anything about it?”

Brian sighed, shaking his head. “If there’s a show tonight, then the radio will be broadcasting it, I would think. John, would you mind?”

The bassist looked up at suddenly being addressed and stood up. “Oh, right. Sure thing.” He walked over to the radio and turned it on to their usual rock station before he turned it up a little and walked back over to his place and sat down as Led Zeppelin came on.

“So besides a show tonight, what did you all want to do?” Brian asked congenially to the other men in the room.

“We need some more milk,” Roger said as he sipped his tea.

Everyone looked over at him.

“You just bought some milk yesterday, Rog,” Brian stated in confusion. “Why on earth do we need more milk? Did you use it all already?”

“Uh, yeah, Brian,” Roger nodded obviously. “I did.”

The guitarist looked over at Freddie and John for confirmation.

“Yes, dear, the milk _is_ all gone,” Freddie nodded in verification and slight annoyance. “It appears that it was impertinent that our drummer consumed two bowls of cereal late last night and then two more this morning.”

John chuckled and Brian looked at his boyfriend in disbelief. “You’re joking. Rog, did you really eat four bowls of cereal in less than twenty-four hours?”

“I was hungry!” Roger exclaimed defensively.

“You literally _just_ bought the milk yesterday afternoon!” Brian exclaimed back, a bemused expression on his face. He was trying really hard to be mad at the drummer but he was also somewhat impressed.

Roger shrugged before drinking more tea. “Then we’ll go back and get some more. Jesus, keep your knickers on, grandpa…”

John suddenly spit out his tea as he laughed at Roger’s comment.

Freddie began laughing when he saw this happen, and Brian messed up Roger’s hair in slight annoyance but was also chuckling. It felt like it had been so long since the four of them were able to just hang out and laugh together like this that Brian felt like he couldn’t bring himself to be too upset.

“You better be sure to clean that mess up, dear,” Freddie chided John.

The bassist was still laughing hysterically, unable to stop. The joke wasn’t even all that hilarious, really, but just the events of the past month or two had caught up to him and he felt glad to be laughing so hard right now.

It was almost a relief from everything that had been happening to Roger, and anyway, his hysterics made the other men laugh as well just from watching him laugh. Maybe it wasn’t too bad.

Roger smirked, enjoying that his joke towards Brian was being appreciated.

Brian rolled his eyes. “All right. So who wants to go to the store?”

“I will!” The other three men offered in unison.

The guitarist smirked and snickered before he unwrapped himself from Roger. “All right, I guess we’ll all just go together, even though I’m pretty sure it doesn’t take all four of us to get food for the flat. If everyone’s finished with their tea, let’s get a move on. I’d like to have time to nap before we go out tonight.”

John and Roger both finished their tea quickly and the drummer jumped off before he hurried over to the key bowl and grabbed them before Brian could.

“Dibs on driving!”

Freddie and John both looked nervously at each other before looking over at Brian who was shaking his head.

“Sorry, Rog. I’m afraid not for a while yet. We need to get you to a neurologist in a couple weeks to make sure it’s actually safe for you to drive,” the older man gave him a sympathetic smile.

Roger scoffed and made a whining sound. “You’re just saying that because you don’t like my driving!”

Brian made a motion with his hand for Roger to hand the keys over and once he did, he opened the door for all of them. “I don’t like your driving, but I was serious about what I said. The last thing we need right now is for you to have a seizure while you’re driving and get us into an accident.”

Roger sighed and nodded reluctantly before he piled into the passenger seat of the van while Freddie and John hopped into the back and sat on the benches.

“Hey, radio,” John reminded them, pointing at what he couldn’t reach.

“Right,” Brian turned it on and then fiddled with the volume as he started to drive towards the grocery store.

After a couple minutes, Roger gave a frustrated sound. “At this rate, we should get to the store by next week!”

Brian rolled his eyes. “I know you’re used to driving erratically but this isn’t Formula One, Rog! I’d rather get us all there in one piece and I’m sorry but I absolutely forbid you from going to the hospital again.”

The band mates in the back chuckled and smirked at Roger’s impatience. It felt like dealing with how the old Roger used to be. Before it had been very annoying but now they welcomed it.

“What the hell are you doing? Drive, Bri!”

The guitarist looked at him with his mouth agape and disapproving eyes. “It’s a stop sign, Roger. You’re supposed to _stop_.”

“I thought those were optional to do!”

Brian shook his head, raising his eyebrows. “No. No, Roger. Stop signs aren’t optional! Oh my god, have you just been driving through them this entire time?”

Roger shrugged. “Well not when I can see other cars coming but if they’re not coming, then I don’t stop. It’s much quicker to get where I need to go!”

Brian sighed. “Keep going through stop signs, Rog, and you’re going to get yourself into a casket.” His tone was fearful but firm and upon hearing it, the drummer simply nodded in understanding and shut up.

“Hey, turn it up!” John ordered suddenly.

Brian turned the volume knob up and everyone else seemed to be waiting with bated breath.

_“… and of course The Kinks will be playing their show tonight at the Rainbow Theatre in Finsbury Park to promote their new record, Sleepwalker…”_

Brian turned down the radio now and glanced around at everyone. “Well? What do we think?”

“What’s there to think about, Bri? We go! It’s The bloody Kinks!”

“I don’t know, darling,” Freddie chimed in now. “They’re no Zeppelin, by any means…”

Brian nodded in agreement but John was smirking slightly.

“I like The Kinks too,” the bassist argued in an easygoing tone. “I think we should go.”

Roger held his hand out. “Up top, mate.” John high fived him and Brian chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll go. I just want to get out of the flat.”

“All right, then it’s settled.”

Brian parked the van and everyone got out. Roger subconsciously looked around to see where it had been that he had had it out with Peter when he and John came here just yesterday. The guitarist seemed to sense Roger’s anxiety because he gently patted his back before they all walked inside Tesco’s and grabbed a cart.

They were a few aisles in when Brian had to put his foot down. “We don’t need five boxes of cereal, do we?”

“Really, Brian?” Freddie snickered. “With how Roger goes through them? I’d say five boxes wouldn’t even be enough for all of us.”

“Well, being that I’m the only adult in this group of fiends and I don’t eat sugary cereal or drink milk, I’d say that five boxes might be overdoing it a little,” Brian put two boxes back on the shelf, much to everyone else’s dismay before they continued to walk on.

Brian grabbed some dinner things and then stopped suddenly when they were halfway through the store. “Bollocks, I forgot something for the bathroom. I’ll come and find you.”

Roger glanced over at him and smiled before nodded. “All right.” He watched Brian hurry back towards the front of the store and then grabbed the cart before he put one foot on the bottom and started to run slowly down the rest of the aisle before putting his other foot on the bottom as well so he was riding the cart.

Freddie and John ran after him before they both stopped the cart and him, looking at the drummer a bit uneasily.

“That’s a wonderful way to put yourself back in the hospital, dear,” Freddie commented, shaking his head as they arrived at the dairy section and grabbed three jugs of milk and put them into the cart.

Roger rolled his eyes dramatically. “Stop being old grannies! None of you are any fun…”

“There’s a difference between having fun and being safe and you don’t do either of those things, Roger,” John noted, smirking before he grabbed a package of sliced cheese.

“Because having fun and being safe aren’t always mutually exclusive, Deaky,” Roger pointed out he put a couple loaves of bread in the cart. “Life’s too short for being safe, anyway.”

Without waiting for either man to say anything else, Roger started running with the cart and hopped on again, causing frightened customers to jump away to avoid a collision with the drummer. As it slowed down eventually halfway down the aisle, he felt it suddenly stop abruptly and he caught himself before he could fall to the floor.

“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me right now, Rog,” a disapproving voice spoke from behind him. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes!”

Roger sighed and turned around to look at Brian as Freddie and John caught up with them. He shrugged and smirked. “It’s not my fault you forgot…” he looked in Brian’s hands. “Toothpaste. Wow, you even buy things like a granny.”

Brian gently pulled Roger out of the way before he took lead of the shopping cart and started to lead them over to the register. “I’m sorry, Rog, that I don’t want all your teeth to fall out! Then _you’ll_ be the granny instead of me and then I can laugh at you because I’ll have all my teeth still,” he looked at Roger smugly.

The drummer couldn’t help but laugh a little, glad to see Brian easing up a bit. They paid for their things and made it back to the van, all of them piling in again to go back home.

“Even six year olds behave better than you in a store,” the guitarist teased, glancing over at the man. He was no longer nagging and the sternness had gone out of his tone.

“Oh shut up already, Bri! Honestly… anyway, you don’t even know any six year olds so you can’t exactly prove that, can you?”

Before Brian could reply to that, Freddie spoke up.

“Oh, Brian! While you were gone, Roger used two twenty-eight point words!”

The older man laughed now and looked over at the blonde who was shaking his head in disbelief but also grinning. “Oh yeah? What were they, Fred?”

“‘Mutually and ‘exclusive.’ It was really quite impressive, darling…”

John had joined in the laughter and Roger just sighed in the passenger seat at his friends razzing him but knew they didn’t mean anything by it.

After they got home, they put everything away and Freddie and John both excused themselves to either watch television or take a shower and work on music. Brian and Roger headed for the bedroom to take a nap together and closed the door.

“How’re you feeling, Rog? Any headaches or anything?”

Roger lay down on the bed and smiled over at Brian, shaking his head. “No, I feel good. No headaches. No flashbacks.”

“Good,” the guitarist smiled back at him before he lay down beside him, wrapping an arm around him, holding him close. He gently planted a kiss on Roger’s head and relaxed.

Roger sighed contently before he breathed in the older man, also feeling pretty relaxed. Today was such a great day so far; he hadn’t been hit by any cars or had any seizures, he was getting along with everyone, they were going to a show later to drink and have a good time together, and even though he felt an annoying nicotine withdrawal right now, Brian was with him. He felt like he could get through anything as long as he was by his side.

He closed his eyes and felt himself fall asleep as soon as he heard Brian’s breathing even out.


	18. recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as you can see, I set an end chapter but it's pretty dependent on how the next chapter goes. I decided when this one ends, I'm going to create a sequel for it so never fear! I shall return again with more of our Queen guys.

**.    .    .**

 

Freddie was the one to wake up Brian and Roger by knocking on the door and then letting himself in. “Kmock, knock, darlings! Time to go to the show…”

“Mmm,” Brian groaned. “All right, we’re up, Fred. Thanks.”

He waited until the singer vanished from the doorway again before he turned to Roger who was still fast asleep and kissed his head to wake him up.

A grin spread across his face as he slowly started to wake up. “I like waking up like this. It should happen more often, I think.” He rolled over and rubbed his eyes before he kissed Brian’s chin softly.

He wrapped both his arms around the blonde now, holding him for a few minutes. “Come on, we should get up and get ready.”

Roger was now smirking at the older man with a glint in his eye, slipping his hand under Brian’s shirt and gently caressed the skin there. He heard him let out a soft groan of pleasure at Roger’s gentle touch before he cupped his cheek and started to kiss him passionately.

Roger kissed him back eagerly, feeling excitement build up in his body before he suddenly pulled off Brian’s shirt. He felt his own soon come off as well as the guitarist helped him out of it, and it wasn’t long before both of them were fumbling at their pants buttons and pulling them down.

Roger felt his heart hammering in his chest, smiling lovingly at Brian who was looking a bit nervous. It was now he realized that they hadn’t even had sex with each other yet and his was going to be their first time.

“Are you sure you want to, Rog?” Brian asked, helping him stand up,

If he was being honest with himself, he was nervous too, but being with the man he loved made things easier for him. He nodded. “Yes, I want to. Do you?”

Brian chuckled softly and nodded. “Yes, I do. Err, hold on.” He walked over to the bedside drawer and grabbed the lube he kept tucked away inside. “I-I haven’t ever done this before with another man… so, this is probably going to be a bit awkward unless….?”

Roger raised an eyebrow at him. “Unless what?”

“Umm… unless you want to… take the lead, as it were?”

Roger grew more nervous now and put his hands on his bare hips. “I… I don’t really… remember when I did that, you know… slept with guys. S-Sorry, Bri.”

The older man shook his head and gave a warm smile. “No worries. We’ll figure it out together, yeah?”

His easiness made Roger relax again and he breathed a sigh of relief, nodding.

“Come over here, handsome,” Brian purred, smirking playfully.

Roger let out a snicker and pulled his pants off his legs before he walked over to Brian in just his underwear. The two men began making out again, running their hands over each other’s skin gently.

“Come on, darlings! We’re going to be late for the show!” Freddie called from outside the door.

Roger groaned in annoyance at the interruption but it was Brian who spoke.

“We’re not playing, I don’t care! We’re allowed to be late! Go on without us,” he instructed, kissing Roger’s shoulders lovingly. “We’ll meet you both there.”

“If you’re sure…”

“We’re sure!” Roger and Brian both called out to him in unison.

They waited for about six minutes before they finally heard the front door slam close after the two men had left. Both of them seemed to relax a lot more now and Brian gently guided the smaller man in front of him, gently pulling down his boxer briefs before he put some lube on his fingers.

“A-Alright, love. This is going to be a bit cold but try and relax.”

Roger nodded and spread his legs a bit as Brian had him bent against the wall with the guitarist standing behind him. Once the drummer felt him apply it, he let out a sharp breath before he forced himself to relax again, the coolness quickly disappearing as he just focused on the other man.

“Let me know if… if it’s too much for you, or… if you feel uncomfortable at all and I’ll stop, okay?”

Roger nodded. “All right.”

Brian wet his lips before he took down his own underwear and caressed Roger’s back, only noticing certain scars from his accident right now as he stood behind him and kissed them softly. He heard Roger moan and then slowly entered him.

He let out an unexpected groan of pleasure at the feel of it, not having thought that it could ever feel this good with another man. He felt Roger tense up at first but then relax rather quickly and then started to make love to him, holding his body close.

“Oh god, Rog…. You feel amazing,” he breathed in his ear.

Roger wrapped an arm around Brian’s neck as he stood in front of him, his breath hitching as he felt Brian thrust inside of him. He closed his eyes in enjoyment of the act before he felt himself have yet another flashback. He quickly put his other arm out to steady himself against the wall.

_It was a series of events that happened in ten second flashes…_

_Roger started out having sex with women, but then it flashes to him having sex with a few men, and he felt like he could actually feel the absolute pleasure of it all._

_Sweat was glistening on his body, showing him as both a bottom and a top. He was kissing the various men as they had sex._

_But it wasn’t love. It had been just that: sex._

_Then –_

He was shot forcefully back into the present as he felt his body explode with ecstasy and heard Brian groan loudly simultaneously. He gripped him tighter, seeing stars as his body trembled against the guitarist’s own body.

Then he felt like he could fall on the floor from exhaustion but Brian was holding him up. He let out a shaky chuckle before he turned around.

“T-That was…”

“Amazing,” Brian finished for him. “It was fucking amazing…” He chuckled.

Roger nodded in agreement, unable to find his words properly as his head spun with a slight, but pleasurable dizziness from their events. They wrapped their arms around each other and shared a deep, loving kiss before Brian reluctantly pulled away.

“Come on, we can shower together to save time.”

Roger agreed and the men both showered and got changed before they drove over to the venue where The Kinks could be heard playing from outside. They got out of the van when a thought occurred to Brian and he looked over at Roger as they started towards the door.

“How did you know you liked The Kinks? You haven’t even listened to them since your accident.”

Roger glanced over at him.

“I did so listen to them! They were on the radio a couple days ago. Anyway, I remember a lot of music, and even the lyrics to them. It’s strange. I can’t remember other things, but those things I can remember.”

Brian shrugged. “Must be the same part of your brain that also remembers how to play the drums.”

“Maybe,” Roger agreed, following the older man inside.

It was smoky but well-lit inside, and Brian turned to his lover. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Umm… yeah, I’ll have a lager, please.”

Brian turned to the bartender and told him the order and then handed the pint to Roger before he led them through the ground, finding Freddie and John near the front, against the wall but within sight of the band. Brian gently tapped the men and they looked surprised until they saw who it was.

“Well, about time,” John teased.

“Yes, what _even_ kept you so long? What on earth were you two doing?” Freddie asked, looking from Roger to Brian.

“We just got held up a bit,” Brian half-lied.

Freddie smirked now. “By each other, I hope…”

Brian rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “What do you think of the band so far?” He asked over the music, pointing to The Kinks who were energetically playing up on the stage.

“I quite like them, actually,” the singer admitted.

Brian nodded in acknowledgement before he looked over at Roger who appeared to be enjoying them as well, singing along to songs that the guitarist had never heard before. He gently patted his back, trying to be affectionate to the blonde without also drawing attention to them as a couple.

Roger glanced over at him and smiled, taking drinks of his beer.

Brian was happy to see him enjoying himself so much right now. This had been a good idea. They all needed this, but especially Roger.

He drank until The Kinks’ set was over a couple hours later and by that, the drummer looked pleasantly shitfaced. Freddie, who was going drink for drink with him looked about the same but he was in worse shape; the singer looked as if he might be sick.

John had only a couple pints, so he was still all right, and Brian, who had none obviously because he was the designated driver had to be the one to help Freddie and Roger both leave once they were done having their fun together.

“Oh, dear. I believe I might have… drank too much,” Freddie spoke softly after they had made it outside.

John helped Freddie in the direction of the van as Brian assisted Roger who was staggering quite a lot and then saw him fumbling with a package of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Nope!” Brian grabbed it out of the drummer’s hands quickly. “No smoking, Roger… remember?”

The younger man looked affronted but he let it out before he suddenly stopped walking. Brian stopped as well, thinking he might throw up, but then saw Roger start walking towards the van again. He helped him into the passenger seat before he started to drive all of them home again, feeling like an adult amongst two drunk teenagers.

At least John hadn’t drank that much.

When they got home, John helped Freddie into bed before going to sleep himself, and Brian had taken Roger into the bedroom and was helping him undress into pajamas.

“Did you have fun?”

Roger nodded, smiling weakly. “Yeah, it was nice.”

“I had fun too,” Brian aided in getting him into pajama bottoms but couldn’t be bothered with a shirt so he let him go bare as he two men climbed into bed.

Roger groaned, feeling dizzy from all the alcohol he had drank and rested his head on the guitarist’s chest before he closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.

  
**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

Roger and Brian woke up abruptly to the sound of Freddie upchucking in the hallway bathroom. The former man groaned, feeling his own stomach churning at the sound as his head throbbed unmercifully.

“What time is it, Bri…?”

Brian looked over at the clock and sighed. “Half seven.”

“Oh my god, it’s so early,” Roger complained, putting the covers over his head.

Brian chuckled amusedly before he wrapped an arm around his boyfriend before he uncovered him and kissed his messy blonde bedhead hair. “I’ll go get you some aspirin and some water, love. Just stay in here and relax.”

Roger wasn’t about to argue.

Brian got up and rubbed his eyes sleepily before he walked down the hall and gently knocked on the door. “Everything all right in there, Freddie?”

“Oh my god,” the singer groaned loudly. “I want to simply die.”

Brian slowly opened up the door and walked inside to see Freddie sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, his body hunched over it. “Do you want some aspirin for your head? Roger’s in the same boat.”

“Of course he is,” Freddie replied, not surprised. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I could possibly keep it down in my state. Can I bother you for some tea, though, darling?”

“Sure, no problem,” Brian declared, knocking a couple aspirin into his palm for Roger before he wet a washcloth and placed it on gently on the back of Freddie’s neck.

“Oh that feels amazing… thank you, Brian.”

Brian gave him a small smile and walked out of the bathroom before he headed into the kitchen and put the kettle on, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. He started the coffee for John and himself just as the bassist shuffled in.

“Good morning.”

“Morning, mate. How’d you sleep?” Brian turned to look at him.

The younger man leaned against the counters opposite of Brian. “Better than Roger and Freddie did, I imagine. How did you sleep?”

Brian laughed softly. “I slept just fine.”

“I heard Freddie this morning. I bet all that alcohol didn’t taste very good coming back up.”

Brian shook his head knowingly. The two men talked about nothing for several minutes as they waited or the kettle to heat up and the coffee to brew, and once they were both done, Brian had made up tea for Freddie and grabbed a glass of water for Roger when he heard John speak.

“So how was it?”

Brian snapped his head over to look at him. “How was what?”

John gave him a knowing look with a small smirk. “Freddie and I could hear the two of you in the room. You forget how paper thin these walls are.”

“Jesus Christ,” Brian laughed in embarrassment. “Sorry, mate. I think I did forget.”

“It’s fine. But how was it? Was Roger… all right with it?”

Brian ran a hand through his hair, thinking about not telling John about it. It was a private, intimate moment Roger and he had had, and under any other circumstances, the older man wouldn’t divulge any of it but he suspected John was just concerned about Roger’s mental state and his physical condition during the event.

“Yeah, it went fine, no incidents. We both had a good time. I suspect he might have had a flashback during it, near the end, but… I don’t think it was a bad one or anything.”

“Did he say anything to you about it?”

Brian bit his lip and shook his head. “No, he didn’t. Hey, John? Do you think I…. took advantage of him? With him having all of these flashbacks all the time and everything? I mean, I didn’t even think about it until just now, talking with you, but now I’m worried I might have.”

John searched his face and thought for a moment. “In my opinion, I don’t think you did. Maybe if he had the flashback when you first started out, and you kept at it even though he was… gone… but he was clear and present when you started, and when you finished, right?”

Brian nodded surely. “Yeah, right. He was.”

“Did he tell you to stop at any point?”

The guitarist shook his head. “He didn’t, and he seemed to be pretty relaxed and he seemed all right with the happy endings.”

John chuckled and nodded in understanding. “Right, well… I’d talk to him just to make sure but… I don’t believe you took advantage of him, Brian.”

Brian felt himself relax now but made a mental note to ask Roger about it when he felt better. He poured a cup of coffee for John and handed it to him before he took the tea into Freddie and then lastly, walked into his room again and kneeled down in front of Roger’s side of the bed.

He saw the drummer had gone back to sleep and gently poked him. “Hey, wake up, Rog. I have some aspirin and water for your head. Come on, love. Just swallow them and then you can go back to sleep if you want, okay?”

This offer seemed to bring Roger back to life as he opened his eyes and swallowed the aspirin down with the water before handing an empty glass back to Brian. “Cheers.”

“Good man,” the guitarist leaned in and kissed his forehead before he set the glass on the table before he started to get dressed in the dimmed light of the room. He didn’t want to turn on any lights since he knew Roger was hungover and bright light would only make him feel worse. Once he had gotten dressed, he decided to let Roger rest and he walked back out to where John was sitting on the couch, sipping coffee and listening to the radio at a low volume.

Brian grabbed a cup of coffee for himself and sat down beside the younger man, who looked over and smiled at him.

“Did you ask him?”

“No. I’m going to let him rest and ask when he feels better later,” he replied, taking a sip of coffee. “What did you think of the show last night?”

John shrugged. “They were all right. I still like us as a band better, though.”

Brian laughed and grinned, nodding. “Me too, John.”

They hung out together until the late afternoon when both Freddie and Roger finally got out of their bedrooms and came out and sat down on the other side of John and Brian respectively.

“How’re you two drunkards feeling, then?” Brian teased lightly as he wrapped an arm around Roger when he leaned against him affectionately.

“Well enough to knock you out, darling,” Freddie answered for the two of them, standing back up to go to the kettle to make cups of tea for himself and the drummer. “I wouldn’t push it.”

Brian chortled before he ran his fingers through the blonde’s hair. “Did the aspirin help any?” He whispered to him. He felt Roger nod weakly. “Are you feeling nauseous at all?”

“A little,” Roger admitted, forcing himself to look up at him.

“Good,” Brian smiled lovingly at him. “What did you want to do today? Day’s already have over.”

Roger shrugged before he switched position, laying down on the couch so his head was in the older man’s lap. “I still feel like death, Bri.”

“All right. We can just stay in tonight.”

Freddie came over with a cup of tea and set it down on the coffee table in front of Roger. “There you are, dear. It’ll help you feel better.”

“Thanks, Fred.”

The singer winked at the Roger before he grabbed a paper and a pen and sat down so he could see all of them. “I know not all of us are in the best of spirits physically at the moment, but we can at least work on some lyrics for our next album, get that going.”

“Fuck off, Freddie. My head’s going to split open if I have to think about song lyrics.”

“It’s all right, Rog. We don’t need your input for it. Just go back to sleep.”

John and Brian lightly chuckled, shaking their heads at the singer. Roger _did_ go to sleep after a while, and the three men spent the afternoon and evening brainstorming ideas and song lyrics for their new album, including ideas for the title of the album.

When Roger woke up, he felt Brian stroking his hair but the radio was off and the television was on, and Freddie and John were nowhere to be seen. He turned onto his back and looked up at his boyfriend.

“Where is everyone?”

“Freddie was feeling tired and John decided to go to bed early as well. Are you hungry or anything?”

Roger shook his head.

“All right. Well, you haven’t eaten all day. Do you think you can choke down some toast, at least?” When Roger reluctantly nodded and then forced himself to sit up, Brian walked into the kitchen and put some bread into the toaster.

Roger stood up and walked over to the counter and sat down.

“Can I ask you something, Rog?”

The drummer nodded and cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”

“Yesterday, when we were… having fun,” Brian said a bit nervously. “You were feeling okay with everything I was doing, weren’t you? I mean, if you weren’t, then I want you to tell me the truth. I just… need to make sure.”

Roger searched his face before he nodded, the heat rising a little in his cheeks. “Yeah, it was nice. Really nice, actually. I was a willing participant.”

“Good,” Brian nodded and then scratched at his chin. “Umm… what happening in the flashback you had during?”

“W-What?” Roger tensed a little.

“I’m not mad about it or anything. I just… felt you sort of lose your balance a little during it and I was holding onto you so you wouldn’t fall and… at the time I wasn’t sure you were having one until I thought about it afterwards. I know you can’t help when it happens, Roger. It’s fine, I just… want to know what happened in it this time. I mean, was it a good memory or… d-did it bring back any bad ones?”

Roger was quiet for several moments, jumping slightly when he heard the toaster pop the toast up and watched as Brian placed the plate in front of him after he spread jam on it. He thought back to the flashback and felt a little mortified by it.

“I really don’t want to talk about it…” He bit his lip. “It doesn’t really matter.”

Brian placed his hand on top of Rogers. “It matters to me. You can tell me anything, Roger, you know that. We’ve known each other forever; I’m not about to throw it away because of something that happened before to you. I’m here, no matter what.”

His words seemed to put Roger’s mind at ease because he relaxed now. He took a deep breath. “Umm… I had a flashback about the other people I’ve had sex with before, men and women. It started out with the women, but then… it went to the men and I felt like I could feel how I felt in that moment as well. It was strange, but it felt amazing. I’m sure most of it was because of what we were doing, though.”

 Brian nodded as he listened, gently thumbing the drummer’s hand. “Were any of the guys in your flashback the same one you remember from the club that night?”

“I don’t think so, no.  It all happened pretty fast, Bri. I’m really not sure, sorry.”

“The older man shook his head. “No, there’s no need to apologize, Rog. It’s fine. I just was curious, that’s all. I’m not about to act jealous or anything.”

Roger nodded and smiled in relief before he grabbed Brian’s hand with own and then kissed it before he started to eat the toast.


	19. a new beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas and behold! The last chapter of this story. 
> 
> Thank you all who were a part of this fic, gave me ideas, kudos, bookmarked, subscribed, and even commented! You all are amazing and I hope to see you all in the sequel! Love you all!

 

**Chapter 19**

**.     .     .**

  
Things seemed to settle down over the course of the next couple weeks. Roger didn’t have any seizures, under the close and careful watch of Brian, John Reid still hadn’t found any places for them to play, and he had been nice enough to pay them out of his own pocket to help get through them and pay for everything. 

They had made headway on the new album and were halfway through finishing the songs that would be on it when they heard a knock at the door. Roger glanced up and looked at the other men who looked surprised, not having expected anyone today.

“I’ll get it,” he stood up from his place on the floor, needing a break from writing and thinking and walked over and opened the door up, tensing immediately when he saw Peter standing before him.

The same man who he had seen in his flashbacks, kissing and talking.

The same man who had hurt his own girlfriend.

The man who he had gotten into a fight with at the store parking lot.

Roger thought about calling Brian over but he didn’t want to cash in his man card just yet. He looked at Peter suspiciously. “What do you want?”

The other man put his hands up in surrender. “I-I just came to talk. Can we?”

Roger heard footsteps come up behind him and felt a looming figure standing behind him. He saw the other man look behind the drummer a bit anxiously before he looked back at Roger again. “In private, please?”

He knew he didn’t owe this guy a damned thing, but he figured if nothing else, he’d rather have this guy not as his enemy anymore. He looked behind him and gave Brian a look.

“I’ll be right back in.”

He felt a gently hand on his arm, the older man giving him an uneasy look. “Rog, you don’t have to talk to him,” he said quietly, searching his face.

“I know, but it’s fine. We’ll only be a couple minutes. I’ll be right back here, all right?” He didn’t wait for a reply before he casually took his arm back from Brian before he walked outside with Peter and closed the door behind him.

From how Peter’s eyes darted off to the left, Roger knew that Brian was no doubt watching them from the window now.

“I know about your accident, about your memory loss, Roger,” Peter spoke, his voice a lot calmer and less threatening now than it had been in the parking lot.

“Yeah, you and the rest of the world. What is it you want?”

Peter sighed and bit his lip. Roger had never seen him look so nervous before. He knew there was no excuse for him hurting that young girl, but looking at him right now, Peter looked like a regular guy who had regrets in his life, just like everyone else. He no longer looked particularly evil.

“You probably don’t remember me, and… us.”

Roger searched his face. “I-I’ve had some flashes, like flashbacks, I guess. I know that we met in the club the night of my accident, and we were pretty close that night. Did we…?” Roger trailed off, his eyebrows knitted together in question.

The man who looked to be about his own age looked lost at first, until realization touched his eyes.  “Umm… no. We didn’t really get that far. I never wanted all of this shit to happen, Roger. I meant to hit you with my car that one other night, but I just… it was all a mistake. It was my own fault.”

“Damn right it is,” Roger clenched his fists. “You could’ve killed me!”

“That’s fair,” Peter agreed, nodding. “I just want to apologize to you. I made one mistake after another and that night when you had your accident, the first one, I was so drunk that I didn’t know what I was saying. I didn’t mean it, though, all of it. You were just… about to be my first and I lost it.”

Roger’s mind attempted to remember and grasp at answers he didn’t have. He only remembered bits and pieces, and not all of it made sense. “W-What did you say to me? What happened that night exactly, Peter?”

The other man’s body tensed up and he seemed more nervous before he looked at Roger again. “I won’t come around anymore. I promise you won’t see me again. Have a nice life, Roger. Really, I mean it.” Roger reached out to stop him from leaving but Peter rushed back out towards the road where his car was waiting for him and he quickly got in before he drove away.

The drummer stood there, dumbfounded.

_What the hell had just happened?_

He turned around and went back inside and saw Freddie, John, and Brian all standing there, watching him with interest and question. He searched all their faces before he shook his head and then went back to the living room to work on their album.

They joined the blonde and sat down across from him.

“Talk to us, mate,” John urged gently. “What did he want?”

Roger shrugged, shaking his head, chuckling humorlessly. “The bastard wanted to apologize, for everything. He said I’d never see him again, and then he left. It was very strange.”

The band mates exchanged confused looks with each other.

“That’s it, darling? He didn’t say anything else?” Freddie asked.

Roger shook his head. “Nothing else that made sense to me at least.” He sighed and went back to coming up with ideas for songs, the others slowly joining in was well.

They worked on it for another few hours, Freddie and Roger occasionally having disagreements and then having to be broken up by Brian until one of them caved in eventually. It was about eleven at night when they decided to finally call it quits and head to bed.

Roger and Brian climbed into bed and once they had lay down together, the drummer could feel tension between them as questions still raced around in Roger’s mind. He rested his head on Brian’s chest, wrapping his arm around the taller man.

“Is there anything you’re not telling me about him, Rog?” Brian asked softly in the stillness of the dark room.

Roger thought back for a minute and bit his lip. “He said… I was about to be his first, but we never had sex.” The words felt foreign coming out of his mouth and it baffled him as much as it looked to baffle Brian as well. “What do you think he meant by that I was his first? First what?”

The guitarist looked down at him and saw that Roger was looking back up at him. “He doesn’t seem like a very nice guy, Rog. I don’t want to let my mind go to a bad place but he hasn’t proven himself to be the most trustworthy. What if he means that you were going to be his first… victim?” The older man cringed to himself as he said the words.

Roger felt his stomach sink. “V-Victim? What kind of victim?”

Brian shook his head and chewed on his bottom lip nervously. “I-I don’t’ know, Rog. I’m just… spit balling here, but… it doesn’t seem to me he’s the kind of guy who would have your best interest at heart.”

The drummer tensed and swallowed hard. “Are you saying you think he was about to rape me that night?” His voice filled in disbelief. “I don’t think he’s about to come to my house and admit that kind of thing to me anytime soon, Bri.”

“Like I said, Rog, I don’t know. All I can do is speculate. He hit you with a car, fought you in a parking lot… am I supposed to assume he’s a good person after all that? It might explain why you drove home drunk, maybe you were really angry that night about something…” Brian sighed dismally. “It might explain a lot.”

Roger shook his head, even finding himself chuckling. “I’m sorry, Bri, but I think you’re just thinking the worst. Do you realize how mad you sound right now?”

Even though the younger man was laughing, Brian didn’t change his mind. “I’m just saying, Rog. It wouldn’t be unheard of.”

Roger scoffed and shook his head before he closed his eyes. “I think you’re wrong. I believe that guy’s an unbelievable nutter, but I don’t think he’s a rapist.”

“I hope you’re right, love,” Brian whispered, wrapping an arm around him securely before he let himself close his own eyes.

**ꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷꟷ**

 

Peter’s visit had disrupted Roger’s life, shaking him up inside and making him question everything he knew about that night at the club, the night of the accident. Roger also didn’t experience any flashes for the next few weeks and the others did their best to make sure the drummer was okay mentally and physically, helping him to focus on finishing the album.

It was a success, with millions of records being sold worldwide. The profits from it went a long way to helping the guys making sure they had more than enough money to pay for the rents on both their places, as well as aiding their cause for groceries, petrol, and still able to buy some fun things as  well.

They still kept their flat in London, and their beat up van, for anonymity purposes, but they were able to buy new appliances that were broken and fix up their van so it wasn’t in danger of breaking down anymore.

Now, they were sitting in John Reid’s office, waiting for Freddie to come in so they could start the meeting finally.

“Why don’t we just start without him?” Roger suggested a bit impatiently. “I’m tired of sitting here on my arse twiddling my thumbs.”

John gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I’d appreciate not having to repeat myself again once he comes in. It saves time, Roger.”

Brian and John were quiet, both men easily able to keep their tempers in check. They waited about ten more minutes when they heard the door open and saw Freddie come inside.

“You’re late,” Brian teased, throwing Freddie’s words back at him.

“I _do_ apologize. What are we doing?” The singer sat down in an armchair across from the rest of his bandmates before he lit up a cigarette.

John folded his hands on the desk and looked across the room at all of them. “I’ve done work, promoting you more, promoting the new album,” the manager started. “I’ve managed to put together another American tour for you boys.”

This brought a smile to all their faces as excitement flared up inside all of them. _Finally, something to do besides stay in the flat._

They could finally be on the road again.

“Lovely,” Freddie grinned, taking a drag before he exhaled the smoke.

John looked slightly put out. “You’ve been off for months and that’s all I get when I tell you I have a tour for you again? ‘Lovely’?”

Brian laughed. “Trust me, we’re absolutely thrilled. Thank you, John.”

A smile spread across Reid’s face at his work being appreciated by someone. He leaned back in his chair and then gave a sympathetic look at Roger, also having been well aware of the drummer’s accident.

“Do you think you’ll be up for this, Roger? It’s quite a long tour with all of you together on a bus, close quarters.”

Roger looked over at him in confusion. “What makes you think I’m not up for it? I haven’t had a seizure in over a month now! I think I’m more than ready for it.”

Brian glanced over at him and gave him a warm smile before looking back at John who was still looking unsure.

“I’m just saying, Roger, these tours can be take quite the toll on you guys physically, mentally… emotionally. I’m only worried about how you’ll fare, that’s all. I’m your manager; it’s my priority to look out, manage, and take care of all of you.”

“Oh stop this, Reid! I’m bloody fine already!”

Brian put his hand out towards Roger in an effort to get him to calm down and not get himself riled up. He looked over at John Reid. “If it gets to be too much, we’ll cancel the remaining shows, reschedule, and go back home. It’s not a big deal.”

John looked disappointed at the thought of Queen having to cancel a portion of this long, extensive tour but he nodded. “Okay, then. You boys get a couple months to relax before the tour starts in October. A whole year to promote your new album, as well as the old ones, and then after this tour, you’ll get another year off to work on another album.”

“And then we tour again?” John asked evenly.

John Reid started to nod before he stopped himself and shrugged. “Let’s just wait and see how this next tour goes. Are there any more questions?”

The boys looked from each other, shaking their heads before looking back at their manager who smiled at them.

“Excellent. Then I’ll see you boys in a couple months. We’ll meet here, get on the buses and then we’ll start the first half of your tour.”

The guys stood up and laughed as they started to joke about how they would be able to do a tour without murdering each other in such close quarters before they made their way back out of the building, heading back towards their van.

“So are we excited, gentlemen?” Brian asked, getting into the driver’s seat.

“Yes! Extravagantly excited!” Freddie exclaimed, grinning and chuckling, getting into the back.

“Most definitely,” John Deacon agreed. “If nothing else, it’ll be an interesting experience.”

“Roger?” Brian asked, glancing over at the drummer.

Roger looked back at his boyfriend and smirked slightly before he nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. As much as we get into fights, I have to say that there’s no other group of men I’d rather be stuck on a bus with.”

Brian gently rubbed Roger’s shoulder. “I love you, Rog.”

“I love you too, Bri.”

Roger sighed as he rolled down the window and let the warm breeze of the day blow on his face. He really was excited about touring. Of course, this wasn’t their first tour ever, but he didn’t remember their other ones because of the accident.

This would be _his_ first tour with them, and that was an experience he couldn’t wait to be a part of.


End file.
